Fate: Sorcerer
by euphoric image
Summary: "My name is Harry Potter. It's a pleasure to meet you." "Nope, never heard of you." To be thrown into another world was something that Harry had never expected. So naturally, that's exactly what happened to him. And now everyone's targeting him because he knows this "True Magic" thing. At least he has a knight and a third-rate mage by his side.
1. Arrival

There are people in the world who can wake up in the morning, go about their lives, and then sleep peacefully. There are people in the world who don't find themselves constantly in life-and-death situations.

Harry Potter is not one of them.

"Oh dear."

Harry dove out of the way as sharp stalactites dropped down from the ceiling, nearly skewering him. It then promptly exploded. His wand spun in his hand as he formed a shield that protected him from the shrapnel.

"Why does this always happen to me?" Harry lamented, maintaining the shield with a forlorn face, "This was supposed to be a routine assessment! No, not even that. This was supposed to be my first vacation in years!" Harry casually dismissed the shield with a mere flick of his wand as he recalled the events that led to this catastrophe.

He was in South America. Peru, to be exact. Machu Picchu, to be even more accurate. Under the mountain inside the hidden caves, to be precise. The International Confederation of Wizards had sent him there. They had spun it well, making it seem like it'd be a walk in the park: an all-expenses paid vacation to South America. And all he had to do was to check out this little problem they'd detected.

Truthfully, he should've expected that something like this would happen. Trouble seemed to gravitate towards him. Harry had hope that this time, it'll be different. And so, ignoring his intuition telling him to say no, he'd foolishly agreed.

Making the international Apparition jump was easily done. He'd performed all the necessary calculations in his head, envisualised his destination, and spun in place, pumping vast amounts of magic needed to make such a long jump.

It was a flawless Apparition. Something that most normal wizards and witches cannot do without Splinching themselves halfway across the Atlantic Ocean.

He'd arrived at the Peruvian Embassy of Magic, accepted their refreshments (it was delicious) then quickly made his way to Machu Picchu. At first, he saw nothing wrong. The ruins were untouched, and there wasn't anything nefarious lurking around.

But there was still something there. Something underneath the ground. Harry didn't know how he knew it. It was akin to a sixth sense, a sense that people who regularly fight for their lives acquire. So Harry sunk in, transfiguring the dirt to air as he went. Deeper and deeper he travelled until he suddenly dropped down into a wide cave.

It was well-lit. Torches that gave off golden light line the walls. The walls themselves were covered with runes. Harry could recognize some of them: runes that concealed this area from discovery, anti-Muggle repelling wards, runes that prevented Divination from working. Clearly, this place was not meant to be discovered.

He'd been busy admiring the runes, for they were a masterpiece. Efficient, compact, not a drop of magic wasted. Suddenly, a bold of yellow light had shot out of the air in front of him. Harry had simply tilted his head to the side. Then the battle that he was currently in ensued.

"It'll be easy, they said! It's just some minor disturbances, and we just need you to check it out real quick, they said!" Harry's eyes widened as his senses screamed out at him. He quickly spun in place, Apparating 6 feet to his left. Where he had stood before was now a crater, the center of which was still red with heat. A near instantaneous blasting spell. Yet another brush with death.

"But no, of course I can't get anything simple in my life, can I, Rasputin?!"

The man in front of him grinned. He had white hair, similar to Harry's own, albeit a bit darker. His countenance was rugged and ancient, deep creases folding across his face. His teeth were sharp, much sharper than it should've been.

"I'm impressed. I really didn't think that you'd recognize me. You're better than I thought." Rasputin said, leering at Harry with his eyes. Harry recoiled. Rasputin's eyes had no light. There was no reflection; it was simply a dark and empty pit of misery. It reminded Harry of the artificial humans he came upon when he had infiltrated a vampire coven.

Harry smiled politely as he recalled everything he knew about this man in front of him. "Thank you, Grigori Yefimovich Rasputin. The self-proclaimed Holy Man. Who wouldn't recognize you? You've been on the ICW's kill list for a long time now. In fact, you were on their dead list several times as well. Tell me, how is it that you never die?"

Rasputin clicked his tongue at Harry. In his hand was a Shashka, a Russian saber. Runes ran down the entirety of the sword, leaving only the razor-sharp edge uncovered.

"Now, now. Just telling you wouldn't be fun at all. Why don't you see for yourself? If you can, that is." Then Rasputin swung down his Shashka. The runes glowed black briefly, before a wave of power blasted out. Harry stabbed his wand down onto the ground, hands blurring as he went through the necessary wand motions in the blink of an eye- literally.

The earth rose up, was transfigured into dense metals, and then was shaped into a multi-layered wall. It met the blast head on. The first layer blew out immediately, metal flying out and reverting back into dirt. Then the second layer. Then the third. Finally, it broke through the final defense, only to reveal Harry nowhere in sight.

Rasputin suddenly jumped up, leaping a solid 8 feet into the air. Below him the ground bubbled menacingly, before turning a deep orange color and blasting straight up like a geyser. The molten dirt and rock shot at Rasputin at immense speeds. Rasputin quickly swung his Shashka down, his speed defying his age. The Shashka bisected the stream of fire, splitting it in two, sending it to either side of Rasputin. Even as he did this, however, Rasputin tilted his head to the side. A moment later, sharp metal spikes flew from the stream right at where his head was and impaled the ceiling behind him.

"A classic trick. Startle the enemy by adjusting the battlefield around him, shock the enemy with a flashy but easily countered attack, whilst concealing the lethal blow within. It'd work on most people, but I'm not most people, am I?"

The fountain of fire stopped, as it became clear to Harry that it would have no effect. Harry canceled the Disillusionment charm wrapped around him, stepping out from the shadows. Harry's gaze was focused only on Rasputin's Shashka.

"That's a really nice blade. The runes are wonderful, not to mention the materials used itself." Harry spoke with a detached tone. Gone was the humorous lilt in his voice, replaced with a cold mechanical hardness.

Rasputin smiled. "Thank you. It's nice to see someone appreciate my work. It wasn't easy to make, you know."

Harry nodded his head slowly. He closed his eyes. Then he snapped them back open. A blast of magic exploded from Harry, blowing everything back a few inches. A sudden wind rushed through the cave. Harry's pale white hair was affected, blowing across to the side, as his white cloak started billowing out.

These displays of power all paled in comparison of Harry's eyes, however. They weren't glowing. There weren't any special effects. It was the same green as always. But somehow, someway it conveyed, no, promised only one thing.

Death.

"Easy? I'm no fool, Rasputin. That blade was forged with the bones of a drakon. In all my studies, I've only discovered one way to temper drakon bones, to make it malleable enough to hammer it into a blade. And that's by using Cursed Flames. How many children did it take for you to fuel the flames? How many people did you have to kill, how many lives did you have to destroy to be able to create such a monstrosity?" Harry roared out, his anger causing his magic to wildly lash out.

Cracks formed in the walls as an immense magical pressure filled the cave. Rasputin just stood there, seemingly unaffected. Harry felt a flash of rage as he stared at Rasputin's Shashka.

Drakons, like their successors the dragons, were immune to flames. They were immune to just about everything, actually. Legend said that they had initially spawned out from an active volcano around 32 million years ago. Powered by the ambient magic of the volcano, they had tough hides that were nigh impossible to penetrate and could breathe flames that scorched the skies.

They had gone nearly extinct, as was the case of many other ancient creatures, with perhaps only 3 drakons remaining in the world today, currently nesting deep within the magma vents of the Earth.

Their remains, while few, still existed, however. Harry had found some drakon bones and skins in the Pacific Ocean. The magic imbued in them, while greatly diminished, still made it so that even the crushing pressure of the ocean's depth and the maw of nature didn't make a dent.

Melting the bones to cast it was nearly impossible. Natural fire, no matter how hot, didn't work. Magical flames didn't either. Even the dark infernos of Fiendfyre had no effect.

Only flames powered by human sacrifice and suffering had any effect on drakon bones. It was called Cursed Flames, flames that had no real combat application because it takes a long time to form and once it does form, it cannot be moved from its original position. In terms of smelting power, however, no flames could possibly surpass it.

It was also extremely dark. Life energy supplied by humans and negative emotions supplied by torturing of said humans. Both of which were extremely potent sources of magical power, and both of which were pumped into the Cursed Flames.

Which is what makes the Shashka so terrifying. The power of Cursed Flames increases like a straight line graph, but the materials needed to get it to that power increases exponentially. For the Cursed Flames to be able to melt drakon bones, bones which legend say are completely immune to fires of all kinds, well.

Harry ran some quick Arithmantic calculations in his head. His heart wrenched at the results.

It wasn't a hundred humans. It wasn't a thousand. It was in the millions.

However, Cursed Flames are also terribly inefficient. A hundred humans providing life energy and suffering would only result in perhaps five humans worth of energy going into the flames itself. The rest would simply dissipate into the air.

Unless, of course, something had absorbed the excess energy.

The runes on top must've been used to convert all of the energy, all of the negative emotions and suffering into magic. Rasputin had created a pseudo-wand. No wood or magical core was used, only drakon bones and human suffering held together by runes. It was an abomination of the highest degree. Harry's own wand seemed to twitch in agreement.

Rasputin's eyes widened, causing his face to become even more inhuman and uncanny. Then he let out several rasps of breaths. Harry realized it was laughter. This monster had forgotten how to laugh normally.

"Oh, Harry Potter. I hadn't known that you were this well versed in the darker aspects of magic. I'd thought that you were Dumbledore's Golden Boy." Rasputin's voice had taken on a sing-song quality, as if mocking Harry.

"Well, since you asked," and he twirled around his Shashka like the blades of a fan, "It took around one and a half million lives to be able to melt the drakon bones. Several decades of work. You have no idea how hard it was to conceal all of this from the Confederation. It was even harder to keep it a secret from Dumbledore. But I prevailed. A little bit of sacrifices here, a little bit of genocide there, and soon enough, I had enough power to create my sword."

And his voice abruptly lost all mocking qualities, hardening into steel.

"And it is with this blade that I will retake what was rightfully mine and become God-King."

Harry inwardly cursed his luck. Had the ICW known that Rasputin was here? Definitely. They wouldn't call him out otherwise. But he had ignored his instincts. He couldn't resist the allure of a fun vacation. He thought he'd just go there, examine the grounds, detect maybe some minor wrongdoing, save the day, then eat good food and enjoy the scenery. Peace.

But instead, he's fighting yet another insane radical who wished to take over the world, not caring about how many lives were trampled in the process. And it was Harry's responsibility to stop him.

Story of his life.

Harry took a deep breath, drawing back in all of the magic he'd let flood the room. While great for intimidation tactics, it was a massive waste of his reserves. Instead, he quickly compressed and shuffled his magic until there was no magical presence at all. There was no leakage of magic into the natural environment.

Rasputin whistled. "That's impressive. I've only met maybe a hundred people who had that much control over their magic. Wow. That's actually insane. I can't sense you at all."

Harry didn't deign to respond, instead raising his wand at Rasputin and speaking two words.

"Infernis Arderet"

The Hellfire spell. It was similar to Fiendfyre in that it was extremely Dark magic and it involved flames, but that was where the similarity ended.

While Fiendfyre was almost a sentient creature composed of hatred that took up an animal form to burn and raze indiscriminately, Hellfire was a much more surgical fire that acted like a scalpel. It was useful when you didn't want to collapse everything around you, like if you were in a cave.

Red light exploded out from his wand. It was fast. So fast, in fact, that it reached Rasputin several times faster than the sound of his incantation did.

No sound barriers were broken, however, because spells technically had no mass, and therefore couldn't push against air molecules.

However fast Harry's curse was, however, it still wasn't as fast as Rasputin. His Shashka blurred up, runes glowing menacingly, and severed the curse in half. The curse, losing all structural integrity, quickly shattered into nothing, dissipating into the air.

Then Rasputin dashed forward at inhuman speeds, Shashka aimed to cut Harry into pieces. That was smart of him. In a battle of spells, Harry would reign supreme every time. In a close range fight, however, Harry was at a severe disadvantage without a blade that can stand up to the might of drakon bone.

Harry cursed. As in he said a bad word, not that he actually cast a spell. He spun and Disapparated backwards to gain more space, wand already up and blurring.

Several more red lights shot out from his wand. Rasputin merely cut them once again, a dark grin on his face showing just how much he relished this fight. Then the shattered spells exploded behind him.

Rasputin once against showcased just why he was still alive even with half the world's magical population gunning after him. He twisted around impossibly fast, his Shashka held before him. A blood-red shield expanded from the blade, shielding Rasputin entirely. The explosions bombarded his shield, futilely, not even forming the slightest crack.

"Too weak!" He cackled out, before dropping the shield and resuming his sprint towards Harry.

Harry only smirked.

Rasputin, in his hurry to impale Harry, had failed to notice while the red spells had cracked and exploded, they still weren't gone. A normal Hellfire spell couldn't do this.

A multi-layered spell could.

Indeed, Harry had used Hellfire as the shell, then layered down a time-delayed Blasting Curse and Transfiguration. Rasputin had cut the outer shell of Hellfire, leaving both the Blasting Curse and Transfiguration untouched. The Blasting Curse had gone off, only leaving the Transfiguration.

The sparks that hung in the air formed into sharp metal spikes. There was no lengthy transition; it was simply a spark one moment and spike the next.

_Accio!_

One of Harry's most used spells. He had spent countless hours practicing this one spell over and over again, until he could do it first non-verbally, and then wandlessly. No matter how many times his fingers bled and his head throbbed with pain, he pushed through and mastered the charm. Because he was never going to let someone fall to their death again. No matter what.

Harry summoned the spikes towards him, spearing Rasputin in the back. A second later, a loud BOOM could be heard as the sound barrier was burst. Rasputin gasped, spitting out blood. His lung was punctured. Harry felt a vicious sense of satisfaction. Good. Let him be hurt. It's what he deserves.

His momentum cut off, Rasputin could only stumble. He grasped at the spikes in his chest as if not believing they were really there.

"H-h-how?"

"You could sense and react to offensive magic, magic meant to hurt and to kill. But against a simple transfiguration and summoning. . . well, your senses disregarded them as nothing. Don't worry, this lack of awareness is normal for people who're getting along in their years." Rasputin twitched at the insult, but was too busy trying to stem the blood flow.

Even as Harry spoke, he was blurring through more wand motions. From the ground came huge twisting pieces of wood, curling around Rasputin before hardening into petrified wood. Stalactites came crashing down in an identical fashion to what Rasputin had done to Harry earlier in the fight, forming a cage around Rasputin. Tendrils of shadows erupted from cracks in the ground, wrestling away the Shashka and bringing it to Harry.

Throughout all this, Rasputin only had a grin on his face. Harry stared back, unfazed. Rasputin was strong, yes, but against him, there wasn't much he could do.

He was, after all, Harry Potter, Prodigy of Hogwarts, the Fifth Marauder, and Apprentice of Dumbledore.

Even so, Harry couldn't help but feel that this was a little bit too easy. Rasputin was centuries old. He was a wily bastard, capable of evading the authorities that wanted his head. And he fell this easily? Were the ICW's HitWizards really that incompetent, or was it something else?

Harry reached towards the Shashka. Rasputin's grin grew wider. Oh HELL NO.

Harry didn't know what was happening, and he didn't want to know either. He immediately jumped back from the Shashka, banishing it simultaneously, but it was too late. The runes on the blade suddenly expanded off of the blade and clamped onto Harry's wrist.

Pain rushed into his body as negative emotions filled his mind.

_DESTROY HATE MADNESS KILL BURN PILLAGE MURDER CANNIBALIZE TORTURE MAIM KILL DESTROY_

Harry gritted his teeth and started applying Occlumency to shield his mind from the attack. His head cleared instantly, but it was too late. In the milliseconds that he was incapacitated by the sudden attack, even more runic script had left the blade and crawled onto his body, causing his skin to be entirely covered with runes.

"What is this?!" Harry yelled, expelling magic from all of his pores, trying to get the runes off. While some was forced off by the sheer power, much more stubbornly stayed on.

"Oh, well you see," Rasputin said, "I lied earlier. This blade… it's not my work. It belongs to someone much older than me. I'm sure you've heard of him. His name is Selimir."

Harry reared back, shocked. Selimir was one of the Vampiric Lords. He was millenia old, older than human civilisation itself. When humans had first begun the shift from nomadic to sedentary lifestyle, he was there drinking their blood. He was one, if not the most powerful vampire on the planet. To think that he was the one behind this. . .

"I'm sure the relevance of this location isn't lost on you either." Rasputin continued his monologue, uncaring of how the petrified wood was starting to contract and crush his body. "Machu Picchu was where the ancient Vampiric Lords had set up base to begin systematically gather blood. Humans from all over the world was brought to this place, hooked up to devices that would drain their bodies of blood but kept them alive, not letting them sleep or having any respite from the pain. For thousands of years, all of the negative emotions and death and pain and suffering was more than adequate to power the Cursed Flames to melt the drakon blood. And all the excess power didn't go to waste. It all went into the sword. For thousands of years, that sword had rested in the center of the mountain, absorbing all the power it can get for the vampires' final battle against the Gods themselves."

_I see. It's similar to the Elder Wand then, only instead of memories, it collected pure magic in the form of human suffering_, Harry thought.

Harry closed his eyes. This next spell was going to take a lot of concentration. He shaped the magic within himself, layering it and wrapping it around itself ten, twenty, thirty times. He increased the density and amount of magic until there was literally a glow of light surrounding him. He let himself get lost in the belief in the world, the faith and conviction present everywhere. Then he raised his wand and shouted three words that shouldn't have been able to be pronounced by the human tongue.

"- - -"

_Let there be light._

A blast of holy light came down from the ceiling of the cave. It defied every known law of physics. It passed through the rocks and earth as if it wasn't there, radiant silver light bathing Harry in its rays. The runes dissolved, melting away, forced off of Harry by the sheer holiness of the light. Rasputin hissed, unable to look at it.

The Light of the Heavens. One of the few Divine spells in Harry's repertoire. It doesn't harm anything Good or natural, only cleansing out the darkness and evil. Creatures of nightmares perish beneath the blinding rays, and curses and even death is momentarily repelled.

The light then attacked the sword. The runes on the sword shifted, trying to escape the attack. Then it shattered.

No. That was wrong. Only the surface shattered. A glamour?

It was now a simple straight sword with a double-edge. It was nondescript, a simple blade. But the amount of power emanating off of it… it far exceeded anything Harry had seen in his entire life. So it had a surface layer both to conceal its true identity and the scope of its power?

Rasputin looked shocked when the light first came down and destroyed the sword's surface, but he quickly regained his wits.

"Unfortunately, the vampiric lords had become enemies of Grindelwald in the Great War. Quite foolish of them. They were massacred, with only a few being able to escape, Selimir being one of them. Not only that, but they were massacred _here_, at this exact location. Can you imagine it? The sheer amount of magical energy that beings thousands of years old would contain? All trapped within that sword that you now hold?! Do you think that the holy light is enough to destroy it?" Rasputin laughed out loud, giving off more of those rasping sounds.

Just as he said, the light tried its best to cleanse the evil from the blade, to vanquish it from existence, but it was all for naught. It slowly fizzled out, Harry being unable to maintain the Divine for a long time. The runes burst back into existence, faster now, as if it were angry. It leaped back onto Harry's skin and started growing again, this time targeting nerves as it did so. Harry hissed in pain as he cast several more spells at the runes to try and destroy them.

"How did you get this sword then? You can't possibly defeat Selimir in direct combat to take it from him." Harry was running out of spells he can cast. Purifying charms, Radiance Spells, Nullifying Curses. . . nothing seemed to hold back the runes. They were too powerful.

"He gave it to me, of course, on the sole condition that I'd use it to kill you."

"OH COME ON." Harry groaned. "When did I piss off Selimir? Wait, I take that back. When did I piss him off so much that he'd use a weapon reserved for a fight against the Gods to kill me?"

Rasputin shrugged. "It was what the Council decided."

Harry's eyes bugged out. The Council was a group of the oldest, most powerful nonhuman beings on the planet. Some disliked humans, other disliked each other, some disliked everything in general. They rarely decided on anything.

"You mean, one decided to do it right? And the others followed because it was too much trouble to argue?"

Rasputin shook his head. "Nope. It was a near unanimous decision to kill you. I've never seen them this unified on a matter before. It makes sense, though."

"What do you mean?! Why do they all hate me so much?"

Rasputin tilted his head. His lips curved up even further.

"Isn't it obvious? You're like Dumbledore, only much more violent and idealistic. They can tolerate Dumbledore because he's diplomatic and respects the balance of power. You, on the other hand, are willing to do anything to save lives. You upset the balance of power in the land, uncaring of tradition and treaties as you save the pitiful lives of humans. Actions have consequences."

Harry paused in his strugglings. "Ok, fair enough."

Rasputin chuckled. Then he gave a gasp of pain. The wood had already crushed most of his bones, and was currently grinding together the muscles. Blood was trickling out of the cracks.

Harry stared. According to his eyes and general knowledge of human biology, Rasputin's internal organs should be absolutely devastated by now. He should be dead. The pain itself should've been enough to send him into shock, and the blood loss enough to kill him.

"I see. So this is what they mean when they say you're unkillable. Is it regeneration, similar to Phoenix tears?" Harry mused, absently trying an ancient Chinese purifying spell on the runes. Bright yellow light flowed into the runes, trying to fight it off. It worked for a single moment, the runes momentarily stopping, before the sword gave another pulse of power and the light was snuffed out.

"Nope. No phoenixes were harmed in the making of my body, I promise."

Harry sighed. He really didn't want to use this, but his options were running out.

He took a deep breath, anchored himself, then exited Reality, scattering his atoms like the winds, leaving behind only a magical image. The runes, with nothing to hold onto, disappeared.

This was one of his most powerful abilities: the ability to Fade in and out of Reality. He anchors himself into Reality with thought and willpower, then, similar to Apparition, he scatters his atoms and forces his soul out of Reality into nonbeing.

Of course, this would be rather useless in battle if he had no senses to know what was going on. Returning to Reality right in the path of an Avada Kedavra won't exactly be a fun experience.

The question is how to acquire senses. Since he no longer had a physical body, only his soul and magic, he wasn't able to create organs of the normal sense. So he created magical ones.

An image of himself remained in Reality, albeit extremely transparent, created only by magic. No point in wasting magic on making it solid, after all. It was linked to him by a small stream of magic that started in Point A (the image) and ended in Point B (his soul) without actually transversing the distance in between, giving him instantaneous information.

Magic was cool like that.

As a result, Harry could still use all 5 senses even as he had no physical body. And he could see how Rasputin reacted when Harry escaped his sword.

Rasputin's grin widened even more. In fact, Harry could sEe small rips opening up where Rasputin's cheek muscles had pulled too hard. Oh, that was nasty.

What was he-

"NOW!" Rasputin shouted.

Harry hEaRd his shout, and immediately tried to go back into solid form, searching for the anchor and re-imagining himself back into reality. But it was too late.

The walls of the cave collapsed, revealing Twenty-Two nonhuman beings standing around. The Council, minus one member. The dirt on the ground burned away, revealing runes drawn into the ground.

This wasn't a simple runic array that could be drawn in an hour. The amount and complexity of these runes meant that it'd taken literal years to draw and power up. Harry could vaguely rEcOgNiZe Selimir standing on one corner of the pseudo-circle, his pale skin contrasting heavily with the blood on his lips.

He could also sEe the enemies he'd made over the years. A Faery, a Druid, a Sea Serpent, a Chimaera, a Succubus, and many more. All were powerful. All could destroy a country in a single day. And they were all there, pumping magic into the first layer of the runes.

Was he going to die here? Harry mentally gritted his teeth in anger, as he didn't have a physical body at the moment. He could take them one-on-one. In fact, he was confident that he could take on all of them at once, provided that could just return to solid state. With few Killing Curses here, a few Forbidden spells there, and a lot of Dark Magic in the middle, he could probably beat them back. Not kill them all, not defeat them all, but not die either. And against Twenty-Two of the most powerful beings on the planet, that was good enough.

But he couldn't fight back, not until he was actually able to _cast_ magic. He needed to be in a physical form for that, and the runes on the ground prevented him from reforming.

How had they even managed to find a counter to his Fading? Did one of them reverse engineer the process? Even Dumbledore hadn't found a method to stop it yet. Actually, he probably had, but was saving it as an Ace-in-the-Hole just in case Harry turned his back on the Greater Good. The manipulative old bastard was like that.

But Harry still wished with all his might that Dumbledore was there. As much as Dumbledore annoyed him sometimes, he was still his teacher and loved Harry like a grandfather would.

(Harry ignored the voice in the back of his head that said that he loved him back just as much.)

Nevertheless, no matter what Harry did, he couldn't return back to a physical state. He suddenly felt fear, the first time in a very long time. Was this his fate then? Was he to remain less than a spirit, less than what Voldemort had been when his body was destroyed? Doomed only to be able to observe through the faintest wisps of magic he'd left on Earth, but never to interact and do anything?

Of course not. The Council wouldn't be content to just let him be. They'd want to kill him. The second layer of the runic layer activated as all Twenty-Two pumped magic into it. A lot of magic. A hell of a lot. Harry wouldn't be surprised if the shockwave created a 10.0 Richter Scale earthquake. And yes, he was aware of how the Richter Scale was exponential. He'd gotten a rather large lecture from Hermione when he said that a Richter 15 earthquake would probably only destroy a country. Turns out, it's enough to crack the Earth itself in half. Who knew.

The cave trembled, magic being the only thing holding it together. The second layer of the runic array cycled through the colors of the rainbow, before letting loose a focused beam of energy. Right at Harry's anchor.

Oh no. Oh hell no. With nothing holding him down to Reality, Harry would become nonbeing. Something thought impossible.

A voice that sounded suspiciously like Hermione whispered _it's like you to be the first human to be Vanished. Your luck really is that terrible._

And like all Vanished objects, Harry would become unrecoverable. He wasn't even sure if he'd be granted the mercy of death, or if he'd be trapped with no sensory stimulus, with only his thoughts and magic to occupy him for all of eternity.

The fear that Harry felt got blown into full pants-crapping terror. This was bad. He blamed the ICW for this- wait. There was no way it was a coincidence that he of all people was sent. There was a traitor in the ICW then, or maybe the Succubus had seduced a member. Whatever the case, it was all up to Dumbledore now. There wasn't much that Harry could do anymore.

The anchor, the only thing that connected Harry to Reality, broke. There wasn't any sound. There wasn't even a flash of light. It just simply broke. And Harry lost all connection with Reality.

Instantly, all of his senses went dark. Sight, sound, touch, smell, taste. He received no information. The sudden lack of sensory input caused his brain to go into disarray. He probably would've lost his sanity if he wasn't using Occlumency at the moment to clear his mind. As it was, he still had to gather all of his magic around his mind in order to preserve his sanity.

His brain may not exist, but his mind does. One is physical, the other exists in the soul. And at this point, his soul and magic is all he has, and he may not even have that soon, as he slowly evanesces out of existence.

Harry tried to bite his lip. A habit he hadn't had since he was fourteen years old, facing Voldemort in that graveyard. There was nothing to bite, of course. There was nothing anymore.

Harry was reduced to nothing but a soul with magic wrapped around himself, trying to not let the nonbeing make him their own.

Thankfully, he still had access to his magic. Small miracles.

Harry didn't know how long he stayed like that, trying to resist being erased. The world didn't like how a being was in nonbeing, and was trying to rectify that mistake. Only magic pushed it back. That, and the thoughts of his friends. Ron. Hermione. Luna. Dumbledore. Their faces lent him strength.

Harry had lost all sense of time. Time was, after all, a mortal concept, and it could be argued that he was no longer a mortal. Hours, days, weeks, months, even years would have passed by him and he wouldn't have known.

But soon, it became too much for Harry. Even the thoughts of his friends and loved ones wasn't enough. There's only so much the mind could take before it started to fracture. And once his mind started to fracture, he'd lose his control over his magic. Then, with nothing to defend him, he'd become nonbeing. In essence, he'd die.

Harry didn't want to die. No matter how many times he joked about it, no matter how many reckless actions he took, he really didn't want to die.

Then he felt something. His magic had reached out in the nothingness, expecting nothing but finding something. A tear in Reality. A small tear, but it was enough for him to force himself through. Well, he was always taught to take advantage of the situation.

He let his magic guide him fOrWaRdSiDeWaYsBaCkWaRdUpDoWn. He had no sense of direction anymore. All he relied on was his magic. Just like always.

Then he passed through a small opening. Immediately, his magic sung out, reconnecting with the world. He was back in Reality. But he had no body. Quickly, he called his magic to return his atoms to him. But it didn't work. Where was it? Did the Council annihilate everything in a hundred-mile radius? That was one way to destroy his physical body when it was in its atomic state.

But that was extremely improbable. After all, his atoms were protected by his magic, and it required exponentially more magical power to destroy his atoms than it would to destroy his body.

Dumbledore had used a sand analogy to explain it. Destroying a sand castle was simple, absurdly so. But destroying the individual sand particles is much harder. Raw power wasn't enough, just like how you can't break sand by dropping it. Instead, you needed an extremely focused power to carve up each atom individually, breaking apart the magical defense and the bonds themselves.

Then Harry felt something force his soul and magic into a body that wasn't his own. All five senses returned to him in a rush. His mind, now with the normal sensory inputs, returned to normal. He quickly scanned his new body. Oddly, it was exactly the same as his old one. The only way he could tell it wasn't actually his was because there was none of Voldemort's taint on it.

Other than that, as far as Harry could tell, it was exactly the same as his own. Only this time, there seemed to be something tugging at his magic. Something connected to it. And he suddenly knew a new language. Japanese. What the hell? Whatever, he'll examine it later. But where was his wand?

Harry then looked around. He wasn't in Machu Picchu anymore. He was in a dark room. Moonlight streamed in through the double doors. There were boxes everywhere. A few pots, as well as a chest on a table. A storage closet, then? Whatever the case, he couldn't locate his wand anywhere.

A flash of panic went through him. Without a wand, he couldn't do most of his most powerful spells. He felt naked without it, as if he'd lost a limb. Whatever. He'll have to manage. Just to be sure, he tried to summon his wand. Pain tore through him at the attempt. He was severely weakened. His magic was taxed to the extreme in the nonbeing realm. He pushed through the pain, however, and managed to complete the spell. Nothing flew out to him. No familiar sight of a holly wand. So it truly wasn't there then.

He glanced down. He was wearing his normal white cloak, with a white shirt and white pants underneath. All of which were sparkling clean, as usual. He was standing on top of a. . . runic array?

It must've been one, but Harry didn't recognize the runes being used. It was arranged in a circle, and it was still glowing a pale blue color.

This must've been the cause of the tear in Reality, then. And it was what saved Harry from his fate of being deleted by the world.

Then Harry noticed the blood on the ground. Harry inhaled. Fresh blood. Where was he? What happened? The sound of metal clashing against metal brought him out of his reverie.

There were people fighting outside. And he hadn't noticed. In Harry's defense, after being trapped in nonbeing for so long, his mind was scattered and shell-shocked. He wasn't fully recovered yet, not to mention how his magic was debilitated and diminished.

Even so, even as his mind protested and his magic objected, he couldn't rest. There were people fighting outside. People could get hurt. And it was his responsibility to prevent that.

Hermione had always said he had a saving people thing. Luna had always just smiled at him, understanding why he did what he did. Ron just called him a batshit insane adrenaline junkie.

Dumbledore had called him a hero.

He exited the double doors out into a clearing. There were buildings enclosing the clearing. A few trees littered the ground, bringing nature into the picture. Asian architecture. Chinese, or perhaps Japanese?

Harry absently noted the stars' position in the clear night sky. They weren't right. Some were misplaced, others were where they physically cannot be, and some were missing altogether. Where the hell was he?

Then he shifted his gaze to the battle in front of him. He was standing next to a red-haired boy with Asian features who was focused on the fight in front of him. He had multiple cuts on him- was that blood coming from his heart?! There was a bloodstain right over his heart!

Out in the clearing stood a blonde-haired girl with emerald eyes. She was dressed in a blue and white skirt, and was covered with metal armor. Regardless of her wear, she was beautiful.

Facing against her was a man in blue. Blue hair, blue shirt, blue pants. He had red eyes and a red spear. Looks like he appreciated color coordination just as much as Harry did. Harry distractedly touched his white hair that matched his clothes while looking at the scene in front of him.

They were currently exchanging blows faster than the eye can see. Harry carefully applied magic to his eyes, speeding up its functions by a hundred-fold. The blurs slowed down- or rather, his eyes sped up. Every detail was seen in perfect clarity, from how the girl's hair flowed as she blocked the man's attack, to the minute tensing of the tendons in the man's neck as he thrust forward.

Then he analyzed the fight itself, and he saw something beautiful.

Every action, every stab and parry and slice, was perfect. There was no wasted movement like in the case of Rasputin. There weren't any grand dramatic motions, like what Voldemort had preferred. The two were experts of their tools. In all of history, they would be at the top of their respective weapons. And their technique showed it.

It was clean. It was efficient. It was methodical.

It was beautiful.

The red-haired boy suddenly noticed his presence. He gave a small yelp of fright as he jumped away from Harry. It was a quiet yelp, more of a murmur than anything, but somehow the two fighting heard it over the clangs of their attacks.

They both leaped back, looking at the new arrival with interest and suspicion.

"When did you get here? And how the hell didn't I notice you?!" The man in the blue asked, spear held at the ready, wary for any attacks.

The girl was much more direct. She rushed him, invisible sword held out to the side, fully intent on cutting him to pieces.

"Remove yourself from my Master's side." Her voice was cold and calm.

Harry pondered if he could block the blow. Probably not. The weapon could be enchanted to pierce shields. He wasn't recovered enough to be able to sense at his full capabilities, so he had no way of ascertaining its magical properties. So he spun in place, Apparating onto the roof of a building.

Both the man and the girl flinched. Odd. His Apparition didn't have the customary gunshot sound. It was completely silent. A skill Harry had perfected when he was only 15 years old.

"What the hell was that?" The man shouted. "Teleportation? True Magic?! Are you Caster?"

The girl only nodded in agreement. "I too would like to know."

Harry cocked his head in confusion as he addressed the man's questions.

"That was Apparition. Well, you could call it teleportation, but the formal term is Apparition. I don't know what you mean by True Magic. And no, I do not know who this 'Caster' is."

He supposed Caster could've been a title similar to wizard or sorcerer, but with the emphasis the man placed on the word, it must've been a name.

Harry stepped off of the roof, manipulating his magic around him to cancel his momentum the instant his foot touched the ground. He noted how the man and the girl's eyes flashed dangerously as they noticed how even though he dropped from a considerable height, no dust or dirt was disturbed by his landing.

The man grunted. "Who are you then? No normal magus can do what you just did."

Harry smiled, his emerald eyes seeming to sparkle in the moonlight as his white hair danced across his face in the sudden wind that blew across the clearing.

"My name is Harry Potter. It's a pleasure to meet you."

The man tilted his head. "Nope, never heard of you."

Harry felt a brief sense of irritation. Hadn't heard of him? Harry had probably saved the mortal world thrice over, and he hadn't_ heard of him_? Were they living under a rock?

Wait. They hadn't heard of him. Which means they don't know who he is. Which means there are no preconceived notions, no expectations, no begging him to solve their problems because he was the damned Man-Who-Lived. That actually sounded nice.

Then he thought back to what the girl had said moments before.

"Wait. What do you mean by Master?!"

The girl simply stared back at him. "He is my Master, of course. If you claim you are not Caster, then what is your identity? How did you get here without Lancer nor I noticing your presence? You weren't here a moment before."

Harry shivered as he thought of the connotations. So she was that type, huh? But she looked awfully young. He looked over at the boy, who stared right back. Incomprehension melted into comprehension at Harry's accusing look.

The red-haired boy suddenly shook his head furiously.

"No! She didn't mean it like that! Don't take it that way!"

The boy's face was as red as his hair.

The man in blue- Lancer- gave a bark of laughter. "You have no idea what the Holy Grail War is, do you, Potter?"

Harry searched his mind for Holy Grail War. He couldn't think of anything, besides the legend of King Authur pursuing the Holy Grail. The Grail had been lost centuries ago. So why was there a war being fought over it? Even if they had found it, it wasn't exactly an all-powerful relic. It was similar to the Goblet of Fire: a pretty cool gimmick, but useless in the long run.

It would also be obscenely expensive. That could also be another motivator. Harry could see avarice everywhere he went. It's already been the cause of countless wars, why not another.

But even as he thought it, Harry discounted the idea. The man and girl in front of him didn't seem to be the greedy sort. They were both warriors. She was even dressed like a knight, for Merlin's sake.

"I'm afraid I don't know," Harry admitted with an embarrassed smile. "I'm not exactly sure how I arrived here. All I know is that I suddenly appeared on top of the runic array on the ground in the storage closet over there."

The man and girl stilled.

"The magic circle?" The girl asked, incredulity evident in her voice.

"Well, you could call it that. Now, I know it sounds unlikely, but I promise, I have no idea how I ended up h-"

"That is impossible." The girl spoke resolutely.

"Yeah, pretty sure that you're lying there." The man agreed. "I've never heard of one magic circle being able to summon 2 Heroic Spirits. Besides, even if you were telling the truth, who's your Master then? It can't possibly be that cur over there. . ."

His voice trailed off as his eyes widened. The girl also turned over to look at the red-haired boy. Shock overcame her beautiful features.

"2 sets of Command Seals?!" Both shouted.

Harry glanced over curiously. What were they- oh. On each of the boy's hands was a red rune. Were they the so called Command Seal then?

Then he realized something. The thing tugging on his magic was coming from one of the runes. Was it a control rune? Is that why the girl called him Master? Because she was trapped by his clutches, unable to break free of his control?

And was the same thing going to happen to him?

"So you are Caster then," the man growled. He shifted his stance so that he was facing both Harry and the girl at once. Harry tensed as he felt a large amount of magic gathering in the spear. In his weakened state without a wand, it'd be hard to win the fight.

Harry held up his hands in the universal gesture of surrender. "I'm not Caster. I'm also not looking for a fight here, actually."

The man grinned savagely, his blue ponytail swaying in the wind. "But a fight is what you'll get."

And with that, the man thrust forward, his red spear glinting in the moonlight.

"GAE" the man shouted out.

Harry didn't want to be around when he completed that incantation. He Disapparated away once more.

The man choked on spit. Although Harry didn't know it, he'd just done the impossible. Gae Bolg, the Barbed Spear that Pierces with Death, is an attack that reverses cause and effect, the effect being STABBED BY SPEAR and the cause being STABBING WITH SPEAR. It is undodgeable and unblockable unless the target possesses a high luck. Harry had no such luck.

Instead, Harry had removed the connection between him and the spear.

Apparition is a method of teleportation that involves the user anchoring themselves to reality by envisualising their destination and then scattering their atoms and going into the realm of nonbeing before reassembling themselves at the destination.

Unlike with Harry's time spent in nonbeing, however, since Apparition is instantaneous, there is no time spent in nonbeing, and thus there are no harmful effects.

It's a paradox; after all, if no time is spent in nonbeing, then the person isn't in nonbeing at all. Yet they must be in nonbeing, otherwise they cannot get from one place to another instantaneously. The laws of Reality state that to get from Point A to Point B, there must be time spent traveling the distance. The amount of magic that'd be required to overwrite that law is far too consuming, and it requires a lot more preparation- as is the case with Portkeys.

Portkeys override the laws of Reality itself, creating a wormhole that doesn't affect anything but the user utilizing it. The downside is that it takes a lot longer to create. A skilled wizard like Dumbledore could do it in seconds, but on the battlefield, that's too long for it to be viable.

Apparition, on the other hand, is much quicker because it technically doesn't violate the law; the user jumps from Reality into nonbeing then exits, traveling no distance in nonbeing and as such spending no time in nonbeing, only the exit point is a completely different point on Reality.

In essence, even though in Reality, the user has traveled distance, in nonbeing, he traveled no distance, which is why the time is zero and no laws of nature are being violated.

It was some mind-boggling stuff. Dumbledore had to explain it to him at least three times.

Harry's Fading took it a step further. He remained in nonbeing, his soul only being protected by his magic and thoughts. Since he's actually entering nonbeing and staying there, anti-Apparition wards do not work on him. Anti-Apparition wards work by preventing the user from exiting nonbeing through flooding the area with a specific type of magic. Since the user cannot exit, and they spend no time in nonbeing, they then cannot enter either. And if they can't enter nonbeing, then they can't Disapparate.

When people Disapparate, they don't have to do anything to protect their souls from the unraveling effects of being in the realm of nonbeing, since they're not actually entering nonbeing.

Harry has to, though. Through a mixture of luck and pressure, he discovered a method that allows him to resist the effects of nonbeing for a time by creating a defense around his soul. He's the only human in recorded history to be able to do this, however.

Normal people can't get their souls to be contained by magic without using physical means. A Horcrux, for example, is bound by a container. Ghosts are more imprints of a soul, so they don't count. But nothing physical is allowed to exist in nonbeing, for nonbeing is nothing.

Harry's soul is a unique case.

With the sheer amount of blood rituals used on him when he was a baby by his mother combined with the fact that his soul was constantly in battle with a shard of an insanely powerful dark wizard's soul mean that his soul is _different_.

He could, with clever application of magic, protect his soul from the nonbeing, thus being able to remain in nonbeing for some time.

Harry had no idea how he can do it.

Dumbledore had given up within a few months of examining Harry, proclaiming, "I'm already sleeping too little. I can't afford to lose any more sleep over an impossible problem. I still have to figure out whether the dragon or the egg came first. I hope you can understand, my boy."

Hermione took a bit longer to give up. It was in the middle of dinner in the Great Hall when she suddenly broke down in tears, saying "I-i-i can't. There's no way you can be alive. You shouldn't even be existing. You're too much for me to handle."

In retrospect, perhaps replying with "That's what she said" wasn't the best idea.

It was a new muggle joke that he'd been wanting to try out. If only it didn't land him in the hospital wing, it would've been pretty funny. Hermione was scary when she was angry.

The most ingenious part about Fading, however, was the fact that Harry can manipulate where his anchor is. Since he still has his 5 senses, he can see a new destination, and make his anchor go over there. Which means that even if he exited Reality in one point, he can re-enter wherever he wants.

Harry's Fading was overpowered. It really was.

Back to the battle.

When Harry had Disapparated, in the "time" spent in nonbeing, he wasn't in Reality. Gae Bolg wasn't precise enough to maintain a connection over the realms, and so by Disapparating, he'd severed the connection between him and Gae Bolg, negating the attack.

"So it IS True Magic." The man breathed out, a small hint of fear appearing on his face.

Lancer had no problems fighting Heroic Spirits, monsters, demons, Mages, and pissed-off women. He drew the line at fighting Sorcerers who can toss around True Magic like candy. So did his Master, it seemed.

The man in blue spun his spear around in a graceful arc so that it was behind him.

"Whatever. My job is to observe, not take on two Servants at once." He turned around to leave.

"Wait, Lancer!" The girl demanded. "You're running away?"

The man looked back. "You're welcome to chase me." Then his veins bulged out and he gave her a death glare. "But if you do, you'll die."

With that ominous threat, he jumped up and out of the clearing, much faster than any human could.

Harry watched him go with a small sigh of relief. His head hurt and his blood felt hot under his skin. Sweat dotted his back. Even the small applications of magic was too much for him to handle at the moment. If the man decided to attack again, he wouldn't be able to win.

The girl turned to face Harry, weapon once again held to her side. Not attacking immediately? Looks like she had a code of honor. Harry felt himself relax somewhat. This meant that diplomacy would probably work.

"I ask of you, are you my Master's Servant?" She said, this time looking slightly confused.

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. There does seem to be some magic binding me to him, though." He pointed at the red-haired boy, who took a step back, as if expecting Harry to shoot a spell out of his finger.

The girl nodded. "I see. Although this has never happened before, it's clear that we're both Servants under the same Master."

The red-haired boy stepped in. "What the hell are you guys?"

The girl turned over to him. "As you can see, I am your Saber class Servant. As such, please call me Saber." And she gave him a small smile.

The boy's cheeks turned red again.

"I-i'm Shirou. Emiya Shirou," he stammered out.

Saber's eyebrows lifted. "Emiya?" She shook her head, then turned to Harry.

"Are you the Caster class Servant then?" Saber asked.

Harry scratched his head. "See, here's the thing. I have no idea what you just said."

Saber's eyes narrowed. "So you don't know of the Holy Grail War and your role in it?"

Harry shook his head. "Like I said, I have no idea how or why I'm here."

"The Grail should've given you all the information you need. You're speaking the language of this time, are you not? That was given to you by the Grail. But you claim that it did nothing beyond that?"

Harry nodded. So that was where the Japanese had come from. The Grail must be pretty powerful then. Language spells, while not unheard of, were still quite rare.

Saber looked at him suspiciously. "Very well then. I suppose I shall have no choice but to believe you. I hope that we can be good partners in this War."

"Umm. . . about that." Shirou spoke up.

Saber turned back towards him. "I know. You're not a proper Master, are you?"

Shirou seemed turn a bit redder. "Hang on, isn't it weird to start calling me Master all of a sudden like that?"

Saber regarded him cooly. "I shall call you Shirou, then." Then she directed her gaze at Harry.

"Just call me Harry," Harry said as he saw her unspoken question.

Saber nodded. She turned around and started walking. "Shirou and Harry. . . Yes, the sound of that is pleasing to me."

Then she stopped and turned to face a building.

Shirou suddenly flinched. He held up his hands. There was a red rune on the back of each of his hands.

"What are these?" He asked.

"Those are called Command Seals. Please, do try to avoid using them carelessly." Saber answered.

So Harry was right then! These "Command Seals" probably placed her under Shirou's control. Him as well. But then why does it sound like they'd just met? And that Shirou had no idea what the Command Seals were? Was there an outside force at work here?

"Harry, please back me up." Saber said. Then she knelt down and jumped straight up. Saber landed on top of the roof, surveying her surroundings.

"There are two enemies outside. Between the two of us, they shouldn't pose a problem."

"Wait, what do you mean by two enemies outside?" Shirou called out helplessly.

Harry rubbed his temples. His head really, really hurt. He just wanted to sleep, but he had to carry on. He spun once more, sending pain shooting across his body, Apparating next to Saber on the roof.

"What are we looking at?" He asked. Saber merely jumped down to the ground, motioning for him to follow. They were in a small street lit up by dim streetlamps. Nobody was around but a white-haired man with tanned skin wearing a red jacket and a black-haired girl. Who was very pretty.

She was prettier than Fleur Delacour, Harry realized. Then Saber dashed into action, breaking him from his thoughts. He's becoming delirious in pain. Best end this quickly.

He moved to help, but it soon became clear that no assistance was needed. The man had pulled out dual blades, a black and white one, out of nowhere. Saber and the man then exchanged a quick series of blows, but it was apparent to Harry who had the upper hand in skill.

Sometime throughout the fight, the girl had been knocked down, stunned by the ferocity of the blows not even 2 feet away from her, and was currently on her knees.

That brought Harry to action. As Saber moved to skewer the man, Harry cast a quick Accio at her. She came flying back, but much slower than usual. Wait, the spell stopped working. She was only pulled for about a foot before the spell died out.

Harry was speechless. He'd really only seen this happen when he tried to summon extremely magical resistant creatures, like giants or trolls. Who was Saber?

Even so, the summoning charm was enough to stop Saber's attack. She looked back questioningly at Harry, a small glare on her face.

"Why did you try to stop me, Harry? I would've cut them down with great ease." She asked, steel in her tone.

Behind Harry, Shirou seemed to have arrived as well.

"Saber, hold on. I have no idea what's going on." Shirou said.

"I'm clueless as well. Please, fill us in before you go around killing people who hasn't made any actions against you." Harry agreed. Although he didn't outwardly show it, that single summoning charm caused his condition to deteriorate even more. His vision began to blacken at the edges.

"You'd try to stop me on account of such a trivial thing when we're in battle?" Saber asked angrily.  
She turned around, ready to attack once more, when the girl on the ground hummed out loud.

"Ah, so that's how it is, my good novice Master." She said in a pleasant tone. She stood up, eyes closed as if in preparation. Then she opened them, revealing light blue orbs, and gave a brilliant smile.

"For starters, good evening, Emiya."

XxX

Against Saber's wishes, Shirou led the girl into his compound. He'd introduced the girl as Rin Tohsaka, his school's idol. As they walked into the rooms, Rin had performed a simple repairing charm on the broken window pane, expressing surprise that Shirou couldn't do the same. Shirou then surprised her by revealing that he'd fought Lancer alone. Well, not fought so much as tried to stay alive, but close enough.

Harry personally didn't care. He just wanted to collapse, but just in case Lancer returned, he had to remain vigilant.

The man, Archer, had already left, dissolving into light. Harry might've wanted to study that later, but for now, he let it pass without question.

Shirou, Rin, Harry, and Saber were currently in a Japanese-styled room. Tatami mats lined the floor. Sliding doors blocked the path to the hallway. They were all kneeling down on small purple mats. A TV was in the corner of the room (Harry edged away from it, afraid that it'd explode) and there were several vases filled with flowers decorating the room.

Rin and Shirou were sitting across from each other, a low rise table in the middle. Harry and Saber sat behind and to the side of Shirou.

Rin had taken off her red jacket, leaving her in a white and brown outfit and black skirt. She was sipping from a cup of tea that Shirou had made.

"Now, let's get down to business. You have no idea what this Master business is, do you?" She asked, leaning forward onto the table.

Shirou nodded. "No, I don't."

"To be blunt, you've been chosen as a Master. Have you noticed any stigmata on your body?"

"Stigmata?" Shirou inquired.

"She means Command Seals," Saber cut in from behind him. She'd dematerialized her armor the same way Archer had left, leaving her in a blue dress and white button up shirt.

Shirou gave a small noise of understanding. "Oh, these." He lifted up his hands inspecting the two runes.

"These?!" For the first time since Harry met her, Rin lost her cool. Her eyes were wide as she looked disbelievingly at Shirou's hands. "You have two sets? But how? That means you have two Servants already?" She took a deep breath, closing her eyes. When she opened them again, she'd regained her calm. Looks like she was the type to take everything in stride. Adaptable.

She then shifted her gaze towards Harry. "So you're also a Servant then? I was wondering why you were here. Are you Caster, or maybe Rider? You don't seem to be stealthy enough to be Assassin. And Berserker is out of the question"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. I just appeared out of a 'magic circle.'"

Rin narrowed her eyes. "Two Servants appearing out of the same magic circle? Unheard of."

"He's telling the truth," Saber said. "As much as I doubt it, I was there when it happened. One moment there was nothing, the next he was there. The only way for him to appear without me or Lancer sensing him is if he was summoned. Added to the fact that Shirou has 2 sets of Command Seals, and the conclusion is clear."

"What are Command Seals anyways?" Shirou asked, looking at the red runes on his hands. Harry also focused his gaze. This was something that he too wanted to know.

Rin shifted her gaze back at him. "They mark you as a Master. They're also spells that control your Servant. So as long as you have them, you can keep your Servant under control."

"What do you mean by 'as long as you have them?'" Shirou asked.

Rin clasped her wrist. "Command Seals are inviolable orders-"

Wait. "Hold up. Inviolable?" Harry interrupted.

"Yes. They force a Servant, that is to say, you, to obey, even if it means bending you to your Master's will."

Harry stiffened. It sounded suspiciously like the Imperious Curse. He looked at Shirou warily.

Shirou noticed. "Hey! I'm not going to do that to you."

Harry ignored him. The pain in his head was getting to an intolerable magnitude. He addressed Rin.

"Are there any methods known to disobey one?"

Rin shook her head. "Nope. A Master only gets 3 inviolable orders though."

Harry examined the runes on Shirou's hands. He should be able to disable them easily enough. Perhaps a tri-pronged nullifying orb combined with a demolish rune? Worst comes to worst, he can always just cut of Shirou's hands.

"Shirou Emiya," Harry used Shirou's full name to convey the seriousness of the situation. "If you ever order me to harm an innocent, then I will not hesitate to kill you before the first word passes your lips."

Shirou looked insulted. "I would never!"

"Good."

Rin watched the two of them pensively. "Back to Command Seals. Shirou, if you use all of them up, then you'll probably die."

Shirou jerked back. "What?"

"That's right. The Holy Grail War is based around Masters defeating other Masters. The Master who defeats the other six wins the Holy Grail, which can grant any wish."

What? The Holy Grail can do what now? This piece of information was enough to startle Harry out of his lethargic state, but only for a moment.

"Hey, hold on a second. What do you mean by the Holy Grail?" Shirou demanded.

"Long story short, you've been dragged into a ritual. One called the Holy Grail War, fought by seven Masters. A battle to the death between mages."

That sounded very similar to the Third Task of the Triwizard Tournament. Minus the battle to the death part, of course.

"Come on, do you expect me to believe any of this?" Shirou asked desperately, hoping it was just a joke.

"Do not underestimate wizards," Harry spoke up again, "Their perception of what is allowed isn't exactly normal. She's telling the truth."

At least, he thinks she is. He wasn't going to be like Dumbledore and dive into her head with Legilimency, though. That was one thing he'd never agreed on with Dumbledore.

The mind is a palace that deserves privacy. Harry didn't have any right to violate it. Unless he was in a life-and-death situation. Even then, it must pass all of Harry's moral tests before he'll actually do it.

Huh. Perhaps Voldemort had scarred him more than he thought.

"Indeed," Rin said. "Besides, it should be clear to you. You've been nearly killed by a Servant not once, but twice."

Harry noted the bloodstain over Shirou's heart. It appeared he'd met someone with luck just as bad as his.

"I'm another mage chosen to be a Master," Rin continued. "Think of your Servant as a familiar that'd help you survive through the Holy Grail War. Servants, in your case."

Familiar? Was that supposed to be an insult? According to Harry's knowledge, which was a pretty large amount, familiars were just animals that'd formed a bond with a human. They gained human-like intelligence as well as a few magical abilities, but that was it.

Harry had never had a familiar though. His. . . condition meant that no animal would want to get close enough to him to bond with him. He knew Dumbledore had a familiar bond with Fawkes, the phoenix. What he would give to have Fawkes next to him right now, singing his song.

His vision was getting blurrier. He should probably lie down or something. He got out of his kneeled position, and sat down cross-legged, elbow resting on his knee, hand propping up his head. There. That's better.

Rin, Saber, and Shirou looked at him curiously. Then they focused back on Rin.

"Familiar? They don't seem like familiars to me." Shirou said. Thank you. At least one of them made sense.

"You're right. Servants are technically familiars, but they're superhuman beings, heroes from the past."

Harry's blood froze to ice. His vision sharpened at once as he pumped the last vestiges of power through his body. The past? Just how long was he inside the nonbeing realm?

Unaware of his inner turmoil, Rin continued. "Servants are heroes from the legends, pulled from the past or present into our time and given form."

Heroes of legends? Well, Harry supposed he'd qualify. But the Lancer dude hadn't recognized his name. Which means that he wasn't famous after his death? Harry wasn't sure how to feel about that. On one hand, he disliked fame and popularity, as it came with many negative drawbacks. On the other hand, he would like to be remembered more than a single paragraph in a history book. Half a chapter, at the very least.

Unless his life wasn't interesting enough? No way. It had to be fascinating. In fact, Harry was sure that if someone had documented his lives into, say, 7 books, and sold them, it'd become the most popular book series in the world.

Which could only mean that he was probably still in the present.

"It's the Master's role to summon the Servants, who are then manifested into Reality by the Holy Grail. Servants are basically always with you when they're in spirit form, who you can then materialize when there's a need to fight."

Oh. So that's what happened to the Archer guy. Harry knew of the spirit form, but he'd never really researched it that deeply after he discovered Fading. It requires great skill and power, far more than Apparition or even using a Portkey, which is why it fell out of fashion.

Shirou seemed to have come to the same conclusion. "That's how Archer did it."

Rin hummed in confirmation. "I'm having him on sentry duty for the time being. So, do you understand everything so far?"

"I understand your words. Your ideas? Far less." Shirou said.

"I have questions," Harry said. It was less of a request and more a fact. They all turned to face Harry.

"Yes?" Rin said.

"First of all, what year is it?"

"2004."

Same year then. Thank Merlin.

"Do you know of the name Harry Potter?"

"No."

Harry deflated at that. He wasn't expecting anything, really. But it seemed as if everyone knew who he was. Whether it was for surviving the Killing Curse, defeating Lord Voldemort, or obliterating the Demonic Tribes, people had at least _heard_ of his name.

The fact that she didn't unsettled Harry. Was this even the same world he'd left?

"How many days in a year?"

Rin tilted her head at the odd question. "365. Didn't you use the Gregorian calendar when you were alive?"

"I did. Do you have a Floo fireplace that I can use to connect to the British Ministry of Magic? Or even the International Confederation of Wizards?"

"What are those?"

So she didn't know. From the blank looks on Shirou's and Saber's faces, they didn't know either.

Was he really in another world?

It was possible. Dimension-travel cases, while practically unheard of, existed. Of course, everyone was dead on arrival in those cases. So how had he- Oh.

That's right. His unique soul.

If he'd been inside nonbeing, which theoretically could be connected to an infinite amount of worlds, since nonbeing is the same in every world, then he could have been transported to another world. And this magic circle. . .

From the sounds of it, it seemed to defy both space and time. Time in which it summoned a hero of old, and space when you considered just where the dead souls were. So a crack in Reality, then. A crack that Harry had exploited when he was in nonbeing.

That was why every other dimensional traveller had died. They weren't able to survive prolonged exposure to nonbeing. In fact, they probably couldn't survive any exposure to nonbeing at all. Their soul was crushed, and when they fell through a crack, the world gave them a body but it had no soul to power life.

Unlike with Dementors, if a human born has no soul to begin with, then he's going to die unless powered by magic. Sucking the soul out of a human that already had a soul would only. . . reset them, so to speak, not outright kill them.

Harry could survive nonbeing, however, and with no anchor left to bring him back to his own Reality, he'd forced himself through a crack into another one. That explained why nobody knew of him, as well as the stars' weird positions in the sky.

After all, when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.

. . . did he just quote Sherlock?

"Nevermind. I understand now. Just to be clear, Shirou, did you summon me on purpose?" Harry continued his questioning.

Shirou looked startled that the question had been directed at him.

"N-no. I didn't. I don't know how I summoned either of you, actually."

So he hadn't took control of them on purpose. That was good, he supposed. He could've had a Master that wanted to be a God-King.

Rin set down her cup. "Yes, well, for a more detailed explanation of the Holy Grail War, talk to the man overseeing the War."

A man overseeing a War? Was he like Dumbledore, then? Already, Harry had envisioned an old man with a long white beard badly dressed in eye-searing colors offering candy with a strategic map behind him.

"All I can tell you is that you have no choice but to fight, and your Servants are powerful entities that you should use well."

A War where the fighters had no choice whether or not to participate? Harry didn't like the sound of that.

"Now then," Rin said to Saber, sipping the last of her tea from the cup before setting it down and refilling it with a kettle on the table. "From what Emiya had said, you're in an incomplete state?"

"Yes. As you say, I am not at my full fighting strength," Saber confirmed.

"And you?"

"I'm not either, though I don't think that's Shirou's fault. It's just that. . . well, there were extenuating circumstances at play. It's not that bad though." Harry understated. In truth, everything hurt really, really bad. He could barely keep his eyes open. The previous surge of power had left him feeling drained and tired.

"Shirou is not a fully-trained mage, so replenishing my mana would likely be difficult for him." Saber inferred.

Replenishing mana? Harry assessed his magic levels. While his magic was weakened, it was still refilling at a steady rate. Nothing a full night's sleep wouldn't rectify. Sleep. That sounded good. But he had to stay awake for all the information he can get.

"That's shocking," Rin said. "Servants get the mana they need to remain from their Master. But since you're a frankly terrible magus who can't even manage the most basic spells, this is going to become a problem soon. Especially considering you have 2 Servants drawing on your mana."

Drawing on Shirou's mana? Remaining in Reality from the mana supplied from Shirou? Harry was dead tired, but he was still able to sense that beyond the Command Seal, nothing else linked him to Shirou. There was no flow of magic, nothing.

"Although I have to admit, I didn't expect you to be so upfront with me." Rin said to Saber.

"You had already realized that something was wrong. There was no point in hiding the obvious. In which case, the best course of action was to let both Harry and Shirou to know what was wrong, so that we can address the problem sooner than later. If it meant letting an enemy know, so be it." Saber replied.

Rin raised her cup of tea. "I see, so you're a woman of outstanding character then. Logical and smart, too." She took a sip. Then she slammed the cup down onto the table, the steaming liquid getting onto the table.

"Damnit! What a waste!" she mourned. "If I was Saber's Master, then this War would be already won."

Harry took back what he'd thought about her being able to take everything in stride. She was just putting on a mask, it seems.

She then turned over to look at Harry. "Don't tell me. You're probably an overpowered mage too, right?"

Shirou brightened. "Oh yeah. Lancer had said something about you knowing True Magic. What did he mean by that? It looked really cool when you did it."

Saber looked at Shirou as if he was stupid.

"Why tell an enemy-"

She was cut off by Rin's gasp. Her face had paled dramatically. "Y-y-you know True Magic?"

That wasn't a reaction that Harry was expecting. Was Apparition really that rare here?

"If by True Magic you mean teleportation, then yes."

Rin grabbed her head and turned around. "A sorcerer too? That's not fair." she whined.

Shirou felt as if he should be insulted. "Hold on. Are you saying that I don't deserve to be Harry and Saber's Master?"

Rin's reply was immediate and curt. "Of course I am, you third-rate mage."

Well, Harry couldn't exactly argue with that. Not even being able to use the repair charm at such an old age did point out detriments in Shirou's magical education.

Wait. He was in a different world. That's right. Things were different here. New terminology, new customs, maybe new magic altogether.

"Now then," Rin stood up, "Shall we go?"

Shirou blinked. "Go where?"

"To see the man who knows everything there is to know about the Grail War."

"This late though?" Shirou asked. Harry was confused. Had he never pulled an all-nighter to research a spell before? It was only around 2 in the morning. To be fair, Harry didn't want to go either. His head was pounding really hard, and he could barely see through the black fuzz in his vision.

"Well, if you don't want to go, that's fine. What about you, Saber? Harry?"

"Wait, don't bring them into this. Don't try to strong-arm them." Shirou protested, standing up and waving his hands back, as if protecting Saber and Harry from Rin.

Rin was taken aback before giving a devious smile. "Oh? So you don't want me talking to Saber then? You're acting like a true Master, I see. Is that jealousy I detect?"

Shirou blushed. "I-it's not like that."

Harry wholeheartedly agreed. He wasn't gay, damnit. He liked girls, and only girls. Thankfully, Rin hadn't implied anything going on between Harry and Shirou. Harry shivered as he thought about some of his fangirls back home.

Even worse: his _yaoi_ fangirls. Harry liked Dumbledore, yes, but not _that_ way. Harry quickly repressed those thoughts.

"Besides, you said that Harry and Saber are heroes of the old, right? So they won't make much sense of the modern world." Shirou forged on with a blush on his face, trying to salvage the situation.

"Incorrect, Shirou," Saber spoke up from behind him. "Servants adapt to whatever time period and location they find themselves in. It is why Harry and I know Japanese, even though we've likely never stepped a foot in Japan before. I am well-versed in this time period. Doubly so, because I've been summoned here before."

"No way. What are the odds?" Rin breathed. She turned to Harry. "Let me guess, it's the same for you?"

Harry frowned. "Before we continue, let's clear up some misunderstandings. I am not a Hero from the past. I live in this time period. I am familiar with the modern world, not because of the Holy Grail, but because I live in it. And I had been since 1981."

Rin's jaw dropped. Not much, but enough to be noticeable. "You're only 23 years old? Wait, you said that you 'live' in this time period. Have you even died yet?"

"I did undergo something similar to death recently. Wait. I did died before, but I got better." Harry said, thinking back on his time spent in nonbeing as well as his resurrection in the Final Battle.

"Resurrection? Well, you do know True Magic, so it isn't that much of a stretch." Rin mused. Then she blinked. "That's impossible. The Holy Grail can't summon someone who's alive."

Harry leaned forward. "That's the thing. I don't think I was summoned. I mentioned undergoing something similar to death, and the only way for me to escape was to exit through a small crack. That crack was the magic circle. I think that the magic circle had momentarily weakened the structures of Reality, letting me squeeze through."

"That's. . . that actually makes some sense. So you were given the knowledge of the language as well as the 3 Command Seals because that's what the Holy Grail does when creating your new body. But how did it create your body if you hadn't died yet?" Rin pondered.

"I was willing my atoms to return to me with my magic. Perhaps the Holy Grail read my broadcasted magic, and duplicated the effect?"

"Yes, that might work. I've never heard of a case like that before though, so I can't confirm. Wait. Do you even feel a mana connection to Shirou then? If you hadn't died, then you should still be able to draw mana from your surroundings."

"I can. I don't feel a connection between Shirou and I, besides the Command Seals. However, I admit that I don't know anything about the Holy Grail or magic circles, so I cannot be certain of how this actually happened."

Speaking of which, Rin had said that the magic circles summoned heroes from legends. Harry stared intensely at Saber. Who was she then?

Saber noticed his gaze immediately, turning to look at him. When Harry didn't avert his eyes, she blushed a bit. "What is it?"

"Oh, my apologies. I'm only trying to figure out who you are. Rin said that you're a hero from a legend, right? Are you Atalanta?" Harry ran through all the myths and legends in his head, but blonde women weren't exactly remembered in history very often.

"No!" Saber shouted. That was a strong reaction. "Ahem. I apologize for that outburst. No, I am not Atalanta."

"Who are you then?" Shirou asked, now also looking at Saber.

She hesitated. "Normally, Servants would tell their Masters their true identity so that they can plan with each other's full power in mind. However. . ."

"Let me guess," Rin said, "Since Shirou is only a third-rate magus, he can't defend his mind very well. People could read his thoughts and discern your true identity."

Saber nodded, a downcast expression on her face. "Shirou, you have to understand that it's imperative to keep my identity a secret, because if people know my true identity, then they can create plans to defeat me. You cannot keep a secret through no fault of your own. As such, I cannot tell you who I am. I'm not like Harry, who nobody has ever heard of before."

Ok then. Harry wasn't even mad. She was right, after all. There was no Harry Potter in this world.

He pitied this world.

Saber then looked back up with a determined expression on her face. "However, even though I cannot tell you my true identity, I hope that it will not come in between our Master-Servant bond. I will still fight to my fullest to defend you. I am your blade that will follow your every command."

Shirou turned red again. Harry couldn't blame him. While Saber's intentions were honorable and even admirable, her words carried some. . . unintentional hidden meanings behind them.

"Now that's the spirit," Rin clapped her hands together, an innocent smile on her face. "Shall we go now?"

Saber stood up. Even that simple motion was performed gracefully. "Yes. Where will we be going?"

"To the church in New City." Rin said.

Harry wanted to go, he really did. He needed more information. But he was reaching the end of his ropes. He was already past running on fumes.

"About that. I'm sorry, but remember how I recently underwent something similar to death?" Harry brought up.

Rin, Saber, and Shirou all stared at him on the ground. This time, they actually _looked_ closely, past Harry's healthy surface and into his true state of matter. He was sweating hard. His skin was rosy, but it seemed artificial. His eyes were bloodshot and somewhat shell-shocked. His entire body was trembling, almost imperceptibly. Even though on the surface he appeared healthy, when they actually examined him closely. . .

"You look terrible," Saber said, a tiny bit of shock in her voice.

"No, she's serious. You look healthy, but it's as if you're dying from the inside out." Rin agreed.

"Are you okay?" It was Shirou who asked this question.

Harry mentally facepalmed. The guy with a bloodstain _over his heart_ was asking if he was okay. He appreciated the sentiment though.

"Yeah, I should be fine. I just need to rest a bit. You guys go on ahead to the church. Fill me in later, okay?"

And Harry gave one last smile, vision nearly entirely black and pain stabbing deep in his head.

He used the last of his energy to cast some protective enchantments around him. There was no such thing as being too paranoid, after all.

Then, once he was certain he'd be safe, he passed out, blissfully entering sleep.

**And here it is. The first chapter of my first fanfiction. **

**This Harry Potter is from an AU universe, because JK Rowling nerfed her characters massively in canon.**

**I mean, a 70 year old genius dark lord being killed by a simple second year spell performed by a third rate wizard? No way that's fair.**

**Instantaneous teleportation, that is, traveling from point A to point B without spending the time or crossing the distance to get there, is considered True Magic: Pure Spatial Transference. This is different from Spatial Transportation, which is what Caster and Command Seals use; there's clearly a slight delay. **

**So please, review and tell me what you think :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Fate/Stay Night or Harry Potter**


	2. Berserker

"Harry, Harry, Harry. What have you gotten into this time."

Harry didn't want to open his eyes. He knew that voice. He didn't like that voice.

"Oh, I'm _hurt_. You won't even look at me? You did try to kill me for a decade. What more, you succeeded! Don't you want to _gloat_?" That sing-song mocking tone pissed Harry off like none other can.

Damnit.

Harry opened his eyes and found himself in a familiar place. He was a clearing. Deciduous trees formed a circle around it. The air was sweet, smelling like fresh-cut grass and flowers. The sky was blue, slightly cloudy but not too much so that it wouldn't block the sun. It would've been a beautiful sight if it weren't for the man standing in front of him.

He had no nose. His face was deathly white. His eyes were red, the color of Harry's nightmares.

Lord Voldemort.

This was the man, no, monster who'd almost succeeded in taking over Magical Britain and indeed the muggle world.

This was the man who'd created a contract with Demons, _kept his mind while doing so, _and reversed the roles so that _he was the master of them_ and not the other way around.

This was the genius who awed everyone at Hogwarts with his feats of magic that none has done before. This was the insanely brilliant or brilliantly insane man who'd created not one, not two, but _seven Horcruxes_.

He was said to be on par with Salazar Slytherin, one of the Four Founders of Hogwarts. Harry and Dumbledore disagreed.

He'd surpassed Slytherin in knowledge, talent, and power a long time ago.

All the death, destruction, and loss in Harry's life? It could be traced back to him.

Harry only pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly.

"Can't you go bother someone else? Just leave me be." He said in a tone that suggested this wasn't the first time this has occurred.

Voldemort laughed.

"Oh, Harry. You should know by now. I'm with you forever~"

The sad thing was, he's correct.

Lord Voldemort, rather, the true Lord Voldemort, was dead. There was no question about it.

Lord Voldemort had, however, attached a Horcrux to Harry. Unintentionally? Yes. But he still did, and it meant that Harry had a piece of a Dark Lord's soul digging into his own.

It was only through Lily's blood rituals that kept Voldemort from taking over. That, and Dumbledore's spellcraft.

Even after Harry destroyed the Horcrux, well. You can't have a soul digging into another soul for 19 years without any side effects.

Long story short, Lord Voldemort's soul had left a residue of sorts on Harry's own. An infinitesimal amount, but enough to make a difference.

Not during the day. When Harry was awake and alert, he could shut out Voldemort easily. He didn't even need Occlumency to do so; he could just think of a song in his head. Soon, Voldemort got the idea and stopped trying to talk to Harry in the day.

No, Voldemort came out to play at night when Harry was asleep. Even then, he can't do anything to Harry. He can't possess Harry, he can't influence Harry, he can't torture Harry.

He can, however, annoy the shit out of Harry.

"So, personally, I think you should torture that boy. Shirou, was it? Come on. . . you know you want to. He put a control rune on you. It's only fair that you pay him back. Don't worry, I'll even give you pointers." As Voldemort spoke, he twirled his fingers and a dummy with red hair materialized out of thin air.

Harry only groaned. "Shirou didn't do it intentionally. Besides, you're a part of me. You're literally in my dreamscape every night. We're stuck with each other until I die, so please, can you at least make yourself bearable?"

"Nope!" It should be a crime for someone with no nose to look so happy. Harry would be repulsed if he didn't see the same thing every god damned night.

"First off, why not pull out his fingernails. It's a bit barbaric, but it should get the point across." Voldemort pointed dramatically at the dummy.

"Fingercus Removus!" The nails were ripped off with a sickening sound.

Harry called bullshit. "That's not a spell," he said with a deadpan stare.

Voldemort stared back, his red eyes boring into Harry's.

"It is."

"Isn't."

"Is."

"Isn't."

"Is."

"Isn't."

"Isn't."

"Is."

Wait.

"Goddamnit Voldemort. I'm not doing this with you again."

Voldemort put his hand over where his heart had once been. "Oh, Harry, don't you trust me? I am a genius, after all. Isn't it conceivable that I invented a spell with the incantation 'Fingernus Remova?"

"That's not even the same incantation! You said 'Fingercus Removus" last time!"

"Well, I am a genius. I could've improved the spell in the time we had our little argument. And if I had to alter the incantation to give the spell a boost, so be it. Look!" Voldemort pointed his finger at the dummy again.

"Fingernus Remova!"

Nothing happened.

Voldemort scratched the back of his head. "Oh. I already ripped off his fingernails. Hold up, let me rematerialize them."

Harry held up his hand. "Don't bother. This is a _dreamscape_. You can do anything in it. You don't even need an incantation, you can just think it and it'll happen."

Voldemort crossed his arms. Glasses and teaching robes appeared onto him.

"Now now, Harry, don't think that you can do _anything_ in it. You haven't been able to remove me so far."

"Something that I've been trying to do every day." Harry said. He sat down onto the grass. "Chess?"

Voldemort shrugged. "Why not."

Playing chess with Voldemort- that sounded weird- was one of the only activities Harry could do with Voldemort without wanting to bang his head on the wall.

Even as he formed the set, he glanced at Voldemort, who'd created a tiny golden throne for him to sit on. It was hard to believe that this was the Dark Lord who'd terrorized the world.

He still remembered their first meeting in the dreamscape. Harry had thrown Avada Kedavras at him, Voldemort threw them back, and it wasn't until 5 minutes later that they both realized something wasn't right. They can't use multiple large-scale transfigurations and army-melting spells in one go without feeling any negative drawbacks or any exhaustion. They were both good at magic, but they weren't _that_ good.

They soon discovered that they were in Harry's dreamscape. It took Voldemort about 2 minutes to deduce the soul theory, which was later confirmed by Dumbledore.

It took even longer for Voldemort to become amiable. At first, he'd been nothing but rage and insanity, screaming and threatening every time Harry fell asleep. However, being a ball of negativity 24/7 was hard, even for a Dark Lord. Especially since it seemed to have no effect on Harry.

Then Voldemort realized something. He realized something that Harry wished he'd never realized.

Annoying Harry was a _lot_ more fun than repeating the same empty threats every time.

And so, Voldemort redirected his genius, once used to master the darkest of magic and the unholiest rituals, to coming up with new ways to annoy the shit out of Harry.

"Alright, I'm white and you're black." Harry said, giving the chess pieces color.

Voldemort held up his hand. "That's boring. How about this. I'm gold, because I'm awesome," Voldemort's pieces shifted to a bright golden color, "and I made up a new color for you. It's called Gay, because you're-"

"I'M NOT GAY FOR DUMBLEDORE. STOP SAYING THAT."

Voldemort tilted his head. "You don't have to hide it from me. You can be your true inner self with me. Don't worry, I understand. It must be hard concealing your feelings, right? It must be even harder concealing _something else_ whenever you see Dumbledore, if you know what I mean."

Harry groaned. "That was terrible."

Voldemort preened. "Thank you. Besides, you should accept yourself. I encourage you to embrace your true feelings."

Harry put his head in his hands as he mentally cursed whoever it was that spread the rumor that he was gay for Dumbledore. Even worse, that bastard had told Rita Skeeter, who promptly wrote an article detailing Harry's deviant ways.

Even Ron and Hermione had believed it for a moment, leading them to cornering him in a classroom, and lecturing Harry while blushing and stammering about how age gap limits exists for a reason, and the age gap between Harry and Dumbledore was waaayyyyyy too large to be justified. Harry's shout of denial had them wincing for hours afterward.

Harry supposed he did spend a lot of time with Dumbledore back in the day. But it was for a good reason: he had to train to defeat Voldemort.

Voldemort had had a 70 year head start on him, so Harry had to catch up quickly if he wanted to even register on Voldemort's radar.

Harry absently moved his chess piece. Apparently, the color Gay was exactly the same color as Dumbledore's skin. Wait wait wait NO HE'S THINKING OF DUMBLEDORE WITH HIS CLOTHES OFF.

Harry glared at Voldemort, who simply smiled back. Voldemort had an uncanny ability of predicting what Harry would think. And it was clear that Voldemort chose the color for this exact purpose.

"Your turn, bastard."

And so the game progressed, Harry trying to checkmate Voldemort but Voldemort outmaneuvering him at every move so that soon, Harry was close to a defeat.

Then Harry paused. "That wasn't a rook a moment ago."

Voldemort blinked innocently. "Are you sure? I think it was a rook."

Harry shook his head, confused. "No, that was definitely a pawn a moment befo- OHYOUSUNUVABITCH."

Voldemort only laughed again. "I'm surprised it took you this long to notice."

"You were changing the pieces _all this time?!_"

"Well, only some of the pieces."

"You cheater!" Harry accused Voldemort.

Voldemort shrugged. "If you're not cheating, you're not trying. Welcome to life, my dear Harry. Although your lack of awareness is quite troubling."

Harry could only shake his head in exasperation. "In my defense, I was thinking about my situation. Waking up in another world, and in the middle of a War no less. . ."

Voldemort sniffed imperiously. "Well, if you managed to defeat _me_, then I don't think these trash would pose any problems to you. I am, after all, the pinnacle of awesomeness, the apex of everything."

"Tell that to Dumbledore," Harry grouched. There was only so much arrogance he could take.

"I mean, I did defeat him in that one duel."

"That was because you had the Elder Wand! A wand that you only got because you threatened _first-year students_ if he didn't give it to you! What's more, once you received it, you killed one of them anyways!" Harry shouted.

"Well. I am evil. What did you expect?" Voldemort slammed down his queen triumphantly.

"Checkmate!"

Harry sighed. It appears that he'd have to scratch chess off of that ever-shrinking list of tolerable things to do with Voldemort.

Harry waved his hand, the chess board, pieces, and dummy disappearing with a single thought.

"Say, do you know how long we were trapped in nonbeing?" He asked.

With the mention of that, Voldemort lost all traces of levity. "No, I don't. I was too busy trying to reinforce your magic to prevent us from dying."

Harry paused. "You can do that?"

"Yes. I may be a tiny imprint of a shard of soul, but I still have knowledge that I can inject into your magic. Sadly, it cannot be used against you, only in support. What, did you really think we lasted as long as we did because of your magic alone?" Voldemort scoffed. "It was only my genius and quick reaction times that allowed us to remain as long as we did. Your magic had a lot of cracks that nonbeing could slip through, and it was up to me to direct your magic to block those cracks. You're welcome, by the way."

Harry shook his head, confused. "I don't understand. Don't you want me to die?"

Voldemort stared at him as if he was an imbecile. "If you die," Voldemort said slowly as if he was speaking to a young child, "then I die too. And I don't want to die. Ever."

Oh right. Afraid of death and all that. Harry had almost forgotten.

"In any case, your new body seems to lack my taint on it." Voldemort added.

Right. It seemed so long ago when Voldemort had performed that ritual in the Graveyard back then. Voldemort had used Harry's blood to create a new body, then simultaneously using the energy released by the ritual as a catalyst to forge a contract with the Demons.

Say what you will about Voldemort, but he truly was a genius of the highest degree. Harry didn't even think that was possible, to harness the excess energy from a ritual for something else, until Voldemort did it in front of his eyes.

Whatever the case, Harry's involvement in the ritual, even though he didn't have a choice, meant that his body was tainted. He and Voldemort shared the same blood, and Voldemort had used that blood to forge a contract with the Demons. And since blood was an excellent conductor of magic, that meant that Harry was indirectly linked to Demons.

Nobody liked demons. Not even Voldemort.

This was the reason as to why animals didn't want to be near him at all. They could sense the link, no matter how faint, with a primal part of their mind. And the link terrified them.

Even Fawkes had to be persuaded by Dumbledore with a basket of treats before he allowed Harry to step even 10 feet within his presence.

Thankfully, it appeared this new body didn't have the link, the taint anymore. Since the medium was blood, that meant the link originated from physical means.

Harry was connected to Demons because of blood, not soul, which meant in this new body, where his blood was identical yet different at the same time, the link did not exist.

"As such, I think we can safely discount some of my more. . . wild theories as to where we are." Voldemort continued, now taking up a teacher persona. It was kind of scary to see how well Voldemort did it, actually.

Perhaps Dumbledore was wrong when he said Voldemort only wanted the teaching position to brainwash the youth. You can't be that good at teaching without enjoying it at least somewhat.

"Your soul is connected to your body and cannot be separated until death. Since you have a new body that isn't identical to your old one, we must assume that something has cut the connection to your old body. Since a connection is able to be maintained in nonbeing, it must be in another world different from both our own and nonbeing."

That made sense. If Point A was Harry's homeworld then Point B was nonbeing. A connection could be maintained between the two realms, proven by how Harry could return to Point A and reclaim his body. But Harry being in a new body meant the connection was severed, which could only happen if Harry was at Point C, a new world, where a connection to Point A cannot be maintained, thus allowing Harry to enter a new body.

Basic magic theory states that you can't sever your soul on purpose from your body to inhabit a new body. It just can't be done unless you go down the Horcrux route, and Harry wasn't ever going to do that.

"On top of that, we can discount time travel from the equation, since we already know that stars are where they physically cannot be, regardless of time period. Not to mention the year is the same."

Harry had also already arrived at the same conclusion as Voldemort.

"This also isn't an illusion. An illusion may be able to overwhelm you, but even though I share your senses, I interpret them differently, because I have no brain to facilitate the process. Seeing as nobody has ever encountered a soul imprint on a live human before, they would not be able to create an illusion complex enough to ensnare me."

Harry hadn't thought of that. He also didn't know that Voldemort interprets sensory inputs differently than he does. Of course, Voldemort couldn't exactly do anything to him with it, so he wasn't worried at all.

"Finally, this isn't a prank conducted by the creatures you call friends. They are leagues below both you and me, and are unable to wield magic that would be able to maintain a situation such as this."

Well, obviously. Harry already knew that, and not because they were too weak to pull of such a grand-scale prank like this. No offense intended. It's because Harry trusted them to not do something like this to him.

"And so, once we have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth." Voldemort finished with a grand flourish.

"You just plagiarized Sherlock Holmes," Harry deadpanned, ignoring the fact that he did the same earlier.

Voldemort crossed his arms. "Wrong. Sherlock Holmes plagiarized from me."

"But he's older than you." Harry said.

"I have access to time turners."

"That's a lie. We already destroyed all of them during our clash at the Department of Mysteries."

And what a relief that had been. Dumbledore and Harry had paled considerably when they realized that Voldemort was after time turners. A Dark Lord capable of traveling through time was something they didn't want to fight. Something that they had to prevent no matter what.

They'd arrived at the Department of Mysteries, obliterating the Demons guarding the entrance. Dumbledore was stuck fighting a particularly nasty Demon general that had the ability to split in half whenever killed, so Dumbledore had told him to go on ahead to protect the time turners at all cost.

Harry had stumbled into the area where they kept the time turners, the hourglasses sparkling on the shelves. Then he saw Voldemort there, monologuing at the Death Eaters while dismantling the centuries-old runic arrays that protected the time turners from theft.

Harry wasted no time in launching Fiendfyre at the time turners. Perhaps Dumbledore could have pulled out a massive protective enchantment that prevented anyone with a Dark Mark from touching the time turners, but Harry wasn't even close to Dumbledore's level at that time, so he went for the next best thing: destroying them all.

Voldemort's roar of rage was said to still echo around the Department to this day.

Thankfully, the runic arrays had done their job. While Voldemort had made it almost three-quarters through, a feat that would've taken any other Curse Breaker at least a week, he wasn't able to fully penetrate the defense, and as such, hadn't managed to get any time turners.

And after Harry saw the smoldering remains, nobody would be able to get any time turners.

"And how do you know I don't have a secret one somewhere leftover from my schoolboy days when I had signed up for all the electives?" Voldemort asked with a smirk.

Harry looked at him. Could he. . . no way. "There's no way I'd believe you'd sign up for Care of Magical Creatures or Muggle Studies willingly. You don't have a time turner."

Voldemort deflated. "You're right, I don't. If I did. . . well, you and Dumbledore wouldn't have stood a chance."

The clearing around them suddenly shifted.

"Oh. You're waking up now. Farewell, Harry Potter. I'll see you soon."

"Unfortunately," Harry said before the clearing around them cracked into light, dissolving away.

And Harry woke up.

He was lying face up. He was on a futon, with a blanket over him. He sat up, pulling off the covers over him, and observed his surroundings.

It was still dark out. The position of the moon meant that he'd been asleep for an hour at most.

Even so, that hour was enough for his magic to heal considerably and his head and eyes to clear.

It was a skill he'd acquired during the war with Voldemort, where he only had short periods of time to rest before defending Hogwarts again from the onslaught of demons.

He stood up, stretching out his kinks. He felt good. There was no more pain, no more exhaustion.

He let out a contented sigh.

Where were Shirou, Rin, and Saber? Had they gone to the church without him? Harry sent out a pulse of magic. It returned to him, giving him a rudimentary layout of the house. Nobody was inside. So they had gone, then.

Harry walked out into the hallway towards the bathroom to freshen up. This compound was huge. Shirou must be really rich.

Walking into the bathroom, he shut the door, locked it, then went about to do his business. A cleaning charm, performed so many times that he could do it wandlessly, made all the sweat and dirt on him vanish without a trace.

Hey, if he was going to wear white clothes, then he had to be able to clean it at a moment's notice. Rushing at the enemy with dirt smeared everywhere looked bad, after all.

Harry checked out the shower longingly, before giving a sigh and turning away. He should ask Shirou first. He was still a guest, after all, and shouldn't be treating this like his own home.

He looked at himself in the mirror on the wall. His hair was wild as always. It was white, an effect of the stress from being in so many life-and-death scenarios in such a short amount of time. Harry didn't mind though. White hair looked kinda cool.

The lightning-shaped scar on his forehead was extremely faint, almost imperceptible by now. It had been slowly fading away ever since Voldemort had died two years ago, and it was on the verge of disappearing altogether.

Harry was glad. The scar was the cause of all the attention on him when he was at Hogwarts, and it was a reminder of the tragedy that took away his parents. Harry wanted it gone.

His eyes were the same green as always. People had compared them to an emerald before, but Harry didn't really see it.

Harry remembered when he used to wear glasses before Dumbledore had corrected his vision with a ritual. His eyes were slightly above average, but that was it. No cool powers.

Harry didn't care. Being able to see without glasses was awesome. Especially since he didn't have to worry about them falling off or being summoned in a fight anymore.

All in all, his appearance was exactly the same as before.

Finished, Harry walked out before freezing in place.

Stupid, stupid, stupid! How could Harry have forgotten?!

He was bound to someone who was in a _War_. And Harry knows from experience that once you're in a war, then all bets are off. Attacks can come from anyone and anytime. Even at night. _Especially_ at night.

Harry examined the thing tugging at his magic. If he manipulated it just right, then he could theoretically track where it was coming from. Well, here goes nothing.

Harry's fingers danced in the air as if he was playing an imaginary piano. It was hard without his wand, but simple magic manipulation like this was well within his grasp.

Soon, he could make out a faint line extending from him to something far away. It went through walls.

Harry smiled. Gotcha. He was really too good at this.

With that, he spun in place and Disapparated outside, then did it again and again, following the line.

It wasn't the most elegant of solutions. He'd have preferred to use a broom, or even levitate a rock for him to stand on and glide through the air. He didn't have his wand though, so both options were out.

Finally, he Apparated onto a street. There was fog out, slightly obscuring his vision, but nothing some magic applied to his eyes couldn't help. The street lamps cast an ominous glow with their mechanical blue lights.

He spun to Disapparate again when suddenly there was a loud CRASH. Harry looked around wildly. Where was it- down there!

He hadn't seen it before, but below was Saber currently facing off against a. . .

Was that a giant? A mini-giant?

A hulk, a behemoth was staring down at Saber with angry red eyes. His hair was long and went out in every direction, and his bulging muscles were glowing a dim red.

He wore no shirt, only the bottom half of an armored Greek tunic. His sword- Harry couldn't call it a sword. It was like a mix between an axe and a sword, with a few aspects of club thrown in between.

The behemoth lifted his sword with a speed that shouldn't be possible with his size, and cut at Saber horizontally. She leaped back, dodging it by the barest of an inch, before returning with a powerful strike.

Harry could see Rin and Shirou standing behind Saber. She was defending them from this brute then. Having located them, Harry dismissed the line, drawing his magic back in.

Harry leapt over the railing, letting the wind softly guide him down next to Rin and Shirou. They yelped, clearly not having seen him as they were engrossed in the battle in front of them. He couldn't blame them. Saber moved with a deadly elegance, but she was being pushed back by the raw power of the mini-giant before her. It was a one-sided dance. Harry could see a cut on her stomach.

"Harry! You're here!" Shirou gasped out before Rin cut him off.

"I don't know how much you know, so I'm going to give you the basics," Rin said in a rush. "That's Berserker. He's fast and strong, and he's mad. As in, his mind has no logical thoughts, only anger. He's stronger than Saber, Harry. Help her."

Harry narrowed his eyes, and he held his hand up as Berserker swung down his axe-sword down at Saber.

_Impedimenta_

The simple schoolyard jinx was something he could pull off wandlessly. The jinx streaked forward, striking Berserker on the chest.

No effect. The sword was the same speed as before, slamming down onto Saber, who was already blocking with her invisible sword. Berserker was extremely magically resistant, then. Similar to a giant.

Possibly even more magically resistant.

Berserker and Saber noticed his presence then. Saber backflipped impossibly high before landing next to Harry, sword held in a ready stance.

"Harry. Are you well?"

Harry nodded, attention focused on Berserker. He hadn't made a threatening move so far, instead standing straight, spine erect and gazing down at Harry with angry red eyes.

"I'm fine."

"Good. Be careful, Harry. He may not look it, but his strength as a warrior is unparalleled. Do not mistake his size for lumberness. He is both agile and lithe, capable of keeping up with my strikes."

Saber stated.

"Onii-chan. Who is this? Where did you come from?"

What?! Harry looked up where the voice had come from. There. A young girl, 10 or 11 at most, was standing against the railing, looking down on them. She had white hair and red eyes, and was dressed in a purple trench coat, white shirt that doubled as a scarf, and a funny-looking purple hat.

But he ignored all of that. He hadn't sensed her. He had been standing on the same street as her perhaps not even 15 feet away, and _he hadn't sensed her_.

Granted, he hadn't sent out a magic pulse or detection magic of any kind, but his passive awareness should've noticed her. The fact that it hadn't meant that despite her appearance, she was definitely a force to be reckoned with.

Harry got over his shock quickly. Another habit leftover from when Voldemort seemed to throw out new spells like they were candy.

"My name is Harry Potter. It's a pleasure to meet you." He smiled up at the girl.

Dumbledore had always drilled into him the importance of politeness and diplomacy. The best fights are the ones not fought, after all. If you have a chance to settle things peacefully, you should always take it.

The little girl clapped her hands together. She leaned to the side, a smile adorning her face. It was actually really cute. Cuteness that was quickly offset by her next words.

"Oh, Onii-chan, I like this one. My name is Illyasviel von Einzbern, Harry. Berserker, kill them."

Telling a mini-giant to kill someone in such a cute voice shouldn't be allowed, no matter what world he was in.

The girl, Illyasviel, must've been Berserker's Master then. Berserker confirmed his theory by charging him and Saber wildly. The ground cracked beneath his every powerful lunge.

"Harry, cover me." Saber said, before running to meet Berserker head on in a clash of blades.

Cover her? How?!

Harry quickly ran through the list of magic he could do without a wand. Summoning, banishing, minor elemental manipulation, Disapparation, schoolyard hexes and jinxes, Occlumency, Legilimency, quality of life charms, minor protective enchantments, small scale transfigurations. . .

None of which would help in the fight against an extremely magically resistant mini-giant.

Harry needed his wand. There's a reason why wizards use wands, after all.

There are three ways to cast magic: verbally, nonverbally, and wandlessly.

Out of all of them, verbal magic is the strongest. The reason is that when you say something out loud, you think it more strongly. More raw emotion could be poured into the spell when it's spoken. And emotions are an extremely potent source of power. By saying something out loud and not in the comfort of the mind, the power of the spell increases. It's why the Killing Curse needs to be spoken out loud to work every single time.

It's like yelling "NO!" in the mind versus yelling it out loud. You can literally feel the power, the emotion levels within you rising, when you yell it out loud.

Of course, the drawback to verbal magic is that it's slow to cast. It may be only a split second slower than nonverbal magic, but in a battle, that split second could mean the difference between life or death. However, nonverbal magic is slightly less powerful than verbal magic, which is why a silently-cast Killing Curse would put the opponent into a coma at best. Fortunately, a difference in results is only observed with the most emotion-dependent spells, like the Unforgivables or Fiendfyre. For the rest of spells, the difference in power is negligible when comparing verbal and nonverbal.

Wandless magic is the weakest of all, hands down. While no words need to be spoken and no wand motions need to be performed, without the wand motions to facilitate the drawing, shaping, and layering of magic and the words spoken to supply the raw emotion, wandless magic is limited to the simplest spells.

This is why even Dumbledore and Voldemort still needed wands to cast magic. It's infinitely easier to do, with greater results coming from less power.

After all, simply pumping raw magic into some spells won't make it more powerful. It may be the case for the more simple spells, like the Disarming spell or the Blasting Curse, but when you move onto higher, more advanced magic, things like magic layering and shaping becomes a necessity to have maximum results.

Harry could pump all the magic he wanted into a wandless Killing Curse, and he'd perhaps be able to give the recipient a slight headache for an hour or two.

You at least need a wand to facilitate the layering and shaping the magic; layering being wrapping the magic around itself so it becomes more magically dense; shaping being manipulating the shape of the magic so that it'd have the desired result. Both of these determine the strength, speed, and integrity of the spell.

A Summoning charm, for example, shoots out magic at all directions. You wouldn't want the Killing Curse shooting out in all directions, though. Firstly it's because you don't want to accidentally kill yourself. Second, by splitting the magic apart in so many directions, you weaken the Curse by such a degree that it becomes useless.

Layering and shaping the magic before casting it as a spell is actually one of the things that made Voldemort as terrifying as he was.

Voldemort's Killing Curse is different from everyone else's, because of the sheer amount of times he layered the magic around itself. The magic, compressing and wrapping around itself until it becomes extremely dense, expands like a spring when cast, shooting out many times faster than the sound of the incantation itself, while simultaneously being capable of punching through metal, rock and other physical obstacles of a specific thickness.

The scariest part is that Voldemort is able to do everything, the layering and wrapping and manipulating, all in less than a tenth of a second. His wand had blurred so fast it looked almost still. He was capable of shooting out multiple high-powered ultra-fast Killing Curses in less than a second.

If Harry wasn't able to Fade in and out of Reality, he would be dead many times over already.

Wandless, Harry could only stare at Saber fighting Berserker. He wasn't able to do anything useful without a wand.

Nonetheless, watching Saber sidestep a vicious cleave that would've separated her body down the middle, Harry still had to help. If he couldn't cast magic onto Berserker directly, then he can always alter the battlefield.

He waited until Saber let loose a diagonal slice would require Berserker to angle his body to dodge.

The moment he saw Berserker starting to move, he snapped his fingers. The ground beneath Berserker abruptly lose all friction. With nothing to grip on, Berserker was caught off balance, unable to dodge.

Got him.

Then Berserker bent backwards at almost a 120 degree angle- how was he so agile?!- dodging the blow completely- and fell down on his head, sliding backwards a bit, feet sliding up.

Saber wasted no time at all. Harry manipulated the ground under her to regain friction again so as to not mess up her attacks.

Berserker showcased once again why he was a first rate warrior. With nothing to get a grip on and unable to push himself up without sliding back down, he, with pure force of muscle, lurched upwards into standing position, body not bending at all.

He met Saber's blade head on, and with a mighty roar, _pushed_ her back, sending her flying.

Harry simply willed the earth to rise up, soft dirt catching her flying form.

Saber made to rush back in when Harry stopped her with a hand motion.

She looked at him. "What is it?"

"We can't fight that. I don't have access to my full arsenal yet. We should just retreat for now." He needed to get a wand first.

Saber frowned. "You would run away?"

"Yes." Harry felt no shame in admitting that. Without a wand, his options were limited. On top of that, in the brief exchanges between Saber and Berserker, he could see that Saber was losing. It wasn't obvious, but Berserker was simply faster and stronger. Not to mention Saber was wounded already.

"Onii-chan. Is he also your Servant?" Illyasviel drew their attention towards her.

Rin stepped forward. "That's right. This is a three-on-one. You'll lose." She asserted. But Harry could see that it was all false bravado. She had no faith in him at all.

Illyasviel drew back, hand covering her mouth. "Oh? Onii-chan, you already have two Servants? You're better than I thought. Harry Potter. . . No, I don't think I've heard of you. You're boring. Berserker, ignore Saber and kill him."

What. Why him.

Berserker jumped straight up. You don't need friction to jump. Then, once he was in the air, he curled into a ball and rotated so that his face was facing Harry. Then he _pushed_ with his legs. There was a boom as he shot forward straight at Harry.

Harry's eyes widened. Berserker had pushed on the air itself to launch himself forward. How strong was this thing?!

Saber rushed in to intercept, but Berserker merely batted her away as if she were a fly. Then he landed right in front of Harry, axe-sword raised to deliver a finishing blow.

"Harry!" Shirou shouted behind him in concern.

Then Berserker swung down. Harry spun in place, Disapparating back. A small crater formed where Berserker had struck, the shockwave briefly knocking Harry off balance.

"What?!" Illyasviel screamed, losing her composure for the first time in the fight. "He just. . . he just _teleported?!_" In front of him, Berserker seemed to agree, tilting his head at Harry as if examining an interesting bug.

Harry also heard a slight gasp behind him. It was Rin. Evidently, she had still harbored some doubts about him knowing this "True Magic." Those doubts were wiped out.

"Personally, I prefer the term Apparition, but you can call it teleportation if you like." Harry said, a small smile on his lips. While he didn't like the dramatics as much as Voldemort or Dumbledore did, he could still appreciate a little shock and awe.

Illyasviel narrowed her red eyes. "Onii-chan," she said in an almost reproachful tone, "You didn't tell me you had a Sorcerer up your sleeve."

What was up with these people naming stuff? Sorcerer, True Magic, Berserker, Lancer, Archer, and Saber.

Whatever. His hands glowed red as he prepared for Berserker's next attack.

"I take it back. Don't kill him. He's interesting. Leave him for later. Go for Rin instead." She called out.

What. Why her.

Berserker turned to face Shirou and Rin, who jumped back in surprise. "What, why me?!" She yelled out.

"Because you're boring. Berserker, kill her."

In a burst of speed, Berserker rushed Rin. Harry cursed, prepared to Disapparate again, when a hail of red arrows rained down from the sky, punching into Berserker with the force of a Blasting Curse.

When the dust had cleared, Harry could see Berserker standing upright. No signs of damage at all. What was this thing?! Immune to both magical _and_ physical attacks?!

Wait. Where had the arrows come from anyways? Harry turned towards the direction they rained from, but couldn't see anything. He pushed magic into his eyes. Still he could see nothing.

He let out a directed magic pulse. It returned with a massive amount of information. _Bird, cloud, air, wind, building, concrete, rock, cement, car, people, building, building, tower, Archer._

Harry's eyes widened. Archer had made an accurate shot from _that far away?!_ No, not only that. Multiple accurate shots?! That was insane! Even Dumbledore couldn't do that without a large area-of-effect spell!

Harry pumped magic into his eyes and ears. He wanted to know when the arrows were coming. He wouldn't be taken by surprise like that again.

Berserker took one step. Another. Then he started running towards Rin again. Closer and closer he got, Rin's red spells having no effect, until a streak of gold and blue slammed into him. Saber was back, and from the look on her face, she was livid.

She attacked with a new ferocity. Sidestep. Lunge. Slice. Step into guard and cut upwards.

Yet throughout the barrage, Berserker managed to deflect every blow.

Another arrow came down upon them. This time Harry heard it, so he knew to Apparate in, grab Saber, then Disapparate out. A moment later, a single arrow hit Berserker's head, exploding in red light. Smoke and dust obscured Berserker from view.

That should've done something, right? That was like a point-blank Explosion Spell. Surely it should've affected Berserker a little bit.

The smoke and dust cleared. Berserker was standing upright. No signs of injury on his form.

Oh come on.

"I-is he unkillable?" Shirou whispered in awe and fear.

Saber turned to Harry. "I need you to get him over there." She pointed at the mountains. "Can you do that?"

She had a plan, then. Harry nodded. "I'll try."

How to lure Berserker over, though? He couldn't just use a Banishing charm. He could toss a Portkey at Berserker, but Berserker could always just dodge it. Besides, creating a Portkey wandlessly was going to take time. He didn't have time.

Which meant he'll have to do something very, very stupid to lure Berserker to the mountains.

Harry took a deep breath to prepare himself. His white hair fluttered around as he directed his magic into his muscles, circulating it around his body. Then he Apparated forward, right in front of Berserker.

Berserker swung his axe-sword immediately. It was a fast-twitch reflex, and Harry would've had his head blown straight off if he hadn't ducked, the magic augmenting his speed.

Then he punched Berserker in the balls. Call it a low shot, but you gotta do what you gotta do in these type of situations.

Berserker just stared down as if not believing what Harry had just done.

Harry didn't know, but the only reason Berserker didn't block his punch was because it simply didn't register as a threat. It was the same reason why Berserker didn't move to block the arrows. He knew it would have no effect.

But while it didn't hurt and felt like a light tap at most, Harry still had _punched him in the balls_.

Berserker roared into the night. He may be mad and incapable of logical thought, but he still had enough manly pride left in him to know that Harry had just done something to him that no man should ever do to another. The veins on his muscles bulged out as he swung his sword down to kill Harry.

"Holy sh-" Harry Apparated onto the street where Illyasviel stood watching them. A second layer, Berserker leaped up and charged at Harry, fully intent on ripping him apart.

Harry turned around and ran as fast as he can.

RUN BITCH RUN

He could feel the shockwaves under his feet with every lunge Berserker took. Wait, that one was stronger than- Harry Disapparated again, appearing even farther ahead. Behind him, there was a crash as Berserker roared in fury that Harry had escaped death again. Berserker lifted his sword out of the crater it was in.

Then he turned to look at Harry, and Harry felt full pants-crapping terror for the second time in a long time. Berserker looked like he wanted to _brutalize_ Harry, not because he was in a state of madness, not because Illyasviel ordered him to, but because he genuinely wanted to rip Harry into small pieces. This wasn't madness-induced insanity or loyalty to a Master. This was _personal_.

And Harry didn't have a wand. _He didn't have a wand_. If he failed to Disapparate in time, then there would be no shield to block the axe-sword.

Harry turned around and began running again. And if he screamed a few times- well, no one could hear him over Berserker's howls of fury. So it was alright.

Where was Saber? Harry ran into the forest, leaping on tree branches. Behind, Berserker was running _through_ the trees, arms held out in front like a shield and shattering every tree that was in his way.

Then Harry found himself in a graveyard. He looked around. So that's what Saber was planning- he felt a rush of air behind him. He Disapparated forward again, Berserker's ludicrously large axe-sword crashing down where his head was a moment before.

He turned to face Berserker, who looked back with fury in his eyes. Harry then saw something behind Berserker.

Quickly, he lifted his hand and let out a blinding flash of light while simultaneously conjuring up a small mirror to block Saber's eyes. Berserker reared back, momentarily blinded. Harry dismissed the light and conjuration almost as soon as it was made. Then Harry looked Berserker in the eyes and dove into his mind.

All of Harry's moral tests were passed. Life-and-death situation? Check. Done on behalf of others? Check. Done on someone who has done so much evil that they're a monster in human skin? Ehhhh Berserker was insane, so technically Check. With all the requirements met, Harry used Legilimency on Berserker.

As powerful as Berserker was, he had no defenses for the mind. Nothing can stop Legilimency other than Occlumency, since its less magic and more thought. Wizards have been recorded using Legilimency on dragons, trolls, Acromantulas, and many other creatures. Of course, just because they entered their mind didn't mean that they saw anything useful. Many weren't able to stay sane- or even stay alive.

Harry had used Legilimency on a non-human only twice before: once on a Demon and another on a Kraken. Both times, even though Demons and Krakens operate on instinct, there was at least some logic dictating their movements. Logic to dodge an attack, logic to retreat when against a superior opponent, logic to capitalize on an opening and kill the prey. If A equals B and B equals C then A equals C.

Berserker had no such logic. His mind was filled completely with a righteous rage. Madness overwhelmed Harry instantly, and the only reason Harry stayed sane was because of the Occlumency. There was no logic in Berserker's behavior, only pure fury driving every action. But Harry had clearly saw Berserker dodge attacks, capitalize on openings, and even redirect Saber's attacks to benefit himself.

Which meant that Berserker's sword skills were so good, they were raw instinct, ingrained so deep into Berserker's being that he can do them practically unconsciously. Harry shivered. How long did Berserker have to train and how much did Berserker have to fight for him to be able to turn something that by all rights should be a learned behavior into a _reflex_?!

If Harry didn't know before, he knew now. Berserker was probably the best swordsman Harry had ever met. And if he didn't have the mind-clouding madness that affected every action. . .

Harry would not want to engage that in a fair fight.

But Harry didn't use Legilimency on Berserker just to admire Berserker's sword skills. While the primary purpose of Legilimency is to find information and uncover secrets, Legilimency can also be used to disorientate the enemy by dragging them through their innermost memories in the span of a second.

And so Harry pushed through all the rage and anger and looked. He arrived at the place where Berserker kept his memories, easily bypassing the meager defenses. Then Harry was suddenly in a room. An old man was being beaten by a young boy over the head by a musical instrument. Then he saw a young man around Harry's age shooting down a woman and two boys. The scene shifted to the man, now older, staring hatefully at a man sitting on his throne, looking down on him with a smirk. It was replaced by a bull near a river who was killed by being stabbed by its own horn by the man, who now had graying hair and wrinkles on his face. Finally, he saw the man being dissolved alive from an acid that coated the insides of his shirt. He saw his moans of pain as he climbed a funeral pyre to be set on fire. He saw him die, writhing in agony.

**OUT**

Harry was pushed out by a crazed anger that slammed into him like a sledgehammer. He stumbled back. He was inside Berserker's mind for perhaps less than a second, but it was enough. Berserker was disorientated, his mind reeling from the emotional trip he just went through. He recovered quickly, inhumanly quickly, but it was too late.

In the moment Berserker just relived the worst and most regretful times of his life, Saber had stabbed her sword into Berserker from behind.

"Harry, move!"

Harry didn't need to be told twice. A large amount of magic was gathering within Saber's sword. He Disapparated to the side as Saber unleashed a beam of golden light from her sword, the roar covering whatever words she may have said. Power exploded outwards.

Once the light died down, Harry looked at the scene of destruction before him. Hercules was kneeling, still upright in death. He had a large hole in his torso. His eyes had dimmed into darkness. Saber stood. Harry sensed her sword disappear.

She looked at him, and smiled. "We won."

"No, you didn't," the voice of Illyasviel said. She was standing near the edge of the forest. In front of her was Shirou and Rin, a floating sword made up of white lines pointed at their backs.

Rin was bleeding from a light cut on her neck. Shirou looked untouched but dazed.

"Hostages? You would take hostages in a fight?" Saber demanded. She looked truly furious, her invisible sword back in her hands. Why was she so mad? It's a perfectly viable strategy, if slightly dishonorable. Then he looked at her armor. Oh right. She was a knight with a code of honor. This was probably going against everything she stood for.

Harry stepped forwards, hands raised placatingly, a smile directed at Illyasviel. "Now, now, there's no need for that. We won't attack you." He spoke in a soothing tone, as if talking to an injured animal.

Illyasviel looked at him. "Sorcerer, you're correct in that you won't attack me. But that's because Berserker won't let you."

Harry frowned. "Berserker is dead."

Illyasviel smiled. "Oh, didn't I tell you? Berserker is Heracles, the strongest Servant. Killing him once isn't enough." Heracles? As in Hercules?!

"Harry!" Rin shouted. "Behind you!"

Saber and Harry whirled around, only to see Berserker almost fully healed.

Ultra-fast regeneration from a mortal wound?! It was like phoenix tears! How was Harry supposed to defeat something that wouldn't die?

Then his instincts _screamed _at him. Shirou's breath had also hitched.

"That bastard," Shirou breathed out. Not a moment later, Harry sensed something coming towards them. Something extremely magical. Another arrow then.

He analyzed the facts in a split second. Archer had already fired an explosive arrow, which had no effect. Which means that this arrow, practically bursting with magic, was probably even more destructive. And Harry, Saber, Illyasviel, Shirou, and Rin were standing right next to Berserker, the target.

Damnit.

Harry roared out, releasing an ungodly amount of magic into the air. Wind blew out from him as he slammed his hand into the ground, channeling in as much magic he can. He willed his magic deeper, cutting into dirt then rock, compressing everything around it. A huge sinkhole appeared in the ground around 20 feet deep, sending Harry, Saber, Illyasviel, Shirou, and Rin tumbling down.

Berserker made to follow, but Harry quickly blocked the hole with dirt, transfiguring it into a block of iron. He landed on his feet, sending out gusts of wind to catch everyone, even Illyasviel. She tried to kill him, yes, but she was still a little girl.

Then he performed a huge mass transfiguration in front of him, turning dirt into air. He commanded the earth beneath to flow like a river, leading them away from the death zone. They traveled dozens of feet before stopping.

And it wasn't a moment too soon. Everything had transpired in about two seconds, but it was enough.

**BOOM!**

Dirt and rock came tumbling down, and Harry struggled to hold the cave together with his magic as massive shockwaves threatened to collapse the earth within itself and bury them alive. Luckily, they were far away enough to not be in the center of the explosion.

Before long, it was over. Everything stopped shaking, and Harry let the transfigured iron revert back into dirt that fell back into the hole. Thank god transfiguration fell into the category of more power, better results wandless magic. The rough, unpolished, imprecise transfigurations, that is. Anything more complicated would be much harder if not outright impossible to pull off.

Something else fell down too, glinting amidst the brown. It clattered down in front of their feet before dissolving into light. Archer's arrow, then. Or a sword used as an arrow.

"Archer's arrow," Shirou breathed out. Harry focused his gaze on him. How did he know? He'd said "that bastard" too, before the shot hit. Was it a form of battle precognition?

"Archer! You need to aim better!" Rin shouted. "That was way too close!"

Who was she talking to? Archer? But he was too far away. Could they communicate telepathically?

Whatever. He'll ask later. For now, he jumped up, finding footholds for him to propel himself upwards with. The rest could stay down there for now until he was sure Berserker was dead.

Saber followed behind him. Then they reached the surface and looked around.

The ground was on fire. Molten rocks burned a bright orange. The heat in the air dried up all the moisture in Harry's lungs. Harry absentmindedly casted a Flame-freezing charm at him and Saber as well as a cleaning charm on his clothes, returning them to an immaculate white, while his eyes were focused on the scene of destruction before him. It was an extremely devastating attack. Berserker couldn't possibly have lived through that. He slowly focused on a shape still standing, back perfectly straight.

Berserker wasn't dead.

What the hell. He lived through that shot?! How durable was he? He fought with the ferocity of a Demon, the power of a dragon, the resistance of a giant, and the skills of an expert swordsman.

This wasn't fair.

Saber for her part got over her shock quickly. She held her sword up once again, ready for a charge, when Berserker leaped over their heads and landed near the hole, reaching his hand inside.

Harry's eyes widened. Shirou! Rin!

Then Berserker pulled out his hand wrapped protectively around Illyasviel. She looked shocked. Harry wasn't sure what she was more shocked at: the fact that she'd almost died or the fact that Harry had saved her.

Even so, Harry wasted no time in Apparating in, grabbing Rin and Shirou, then Disapparating out. His magic thrummed as he let it flow through the air. A heavy pressure settled down over the graveyard as Harry prepared his magic. If he couldn't kill Berserker, then knocking out his Master could work. Harry might feel like a rat bastard while doing so, but desperate times calls for desperate measures.

Berserker set Illyasviel down with a gentleness that shouldn't be possible. Illyasviel seemed to have regained enough bearings to speak again.

"You saved me," Illyasviel said, looking at Harry with a confused expression.

"You saved her." Saber accused Harry.

Harry rubbed the back of his head. "I mean, there's no reason not to, right?"

Saber stared at him. "She's the enemy."

"She's a little girl," Harry shot back. "A little girl that has no business in a War where she could die at any moment. Besides, if I could save her, why wouldn't I? She's just a kid." The last part was a whisper, Harry losing himself in his own memories from when he was barely five years old.

_Harry, I'm sorry, my dear boy. But you have to fight. It's for the Greater Good. I hope that one day, you'll forgive me._

Illyasviel was still looking at Harry confusedly.

"Look, Illyasviel, I don't know what you've been told," Harry began kindly before he was cut off.

"Call me Illya." She said, in a much softer, genuine tone.

"Okay. Illya, I don't want to fight in this War. I don't want to fight in any wars, actually. So please, tell me why you're fighting. I'm sure there's a peaceful way to resolve this."

Saber, Berserker, and Illya looked at Harry incredulously. He could sense Rin staring at him too from the corner of his eye.

"She's. . . she's fighting for the Holy Grail. That's what we're all fighting for. Did you forget?" This time, it was Saber that spoke.

Oops. He actually had. In all the excitement tonight, he'd completely forgotten about the Holy Grail that could allegedly grant any wish.

"Oh." Harry didn't know what to say in response. He was good, but granting any wish was a little bit beyond him. Depends on the wish, really. As well as whether or not he has a wand.

Illya looked at him, and Harry got the sense that it was the first time she actually looked at him.

"Harry Potter. . ." she trailed off, looking as if her worldview was just shattered.

Then her smile was back. "Thank you, Harry, for saving me. Berserker, let's go."

Rin glared. "You're running away?"

Berserker picked Illya up and walked away, shielding her from the flames.

"Yes. I'd hoped to get the boring things out of the way first, but my plans have changed. I don't really care about Saber, but Harry. . . you've piqued my interest. So I'll let you all live a while longer."

Then she turned back around. "Okay, bye bye. Let's play again sometimes, Harry, Onii-chan."

With one last tilt of her head and a smile, she and Berserker disappeared.

So that happened. Harry turned to Shirou.

"Nice prediction." He complimented.

Shirou cocked his head. "Huh?"

Harry frowned. "You said 'that bastard' a few moments before the arrow hit, right? I'm pretty sure you were referring to Archer. I can't believe that guy used such an explosive attack with us around."

Rin scowled. "Yeah, he's right. Come on, Archer. You can't assume things like that! What if you were wrong?" She paused, as if listening to something. "Fine." So it was a form of telepathic communication.

She turned to Harry. "Archer told me to tell you that the reason he used that attack was because he was confident that you'd be able to teleport us all out of the range of the attack. He also told me to tell you that saving Illyasviel was a very stupid thing to do, and you should have let her die."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Yeah, well, Archer, if you're listening, all I can say to you is-"

He stopped abruptly when Shirou suddenly fell to his knees.

"Shirou!" Saber called. Shirou brought his hand to his mouth and coughed up blood.

"Oh. . ." then he passed out.

Harry could only look at Rin and Saber, who gazed helplessly back at him.

"Tell me you know healing magic?" Saber asked, supporting Shirou in her arms.

Harry ran through all the healing spells he was confident he could do without a wand. Botched healings were something he wished to avoid.

"Let me take a look at him first. Then we'll see."

XxX

Dead but not dead at the same time. What an interesting phenomenon.

She had been bored that night. She left her bodyguards behind to watch the Holy Grail War to try to relieve some of that boredom. She hadn't really expected anything interesting. And it wasn't at first. She was prepared to leave, already turning around.

Then he appeared.

At first, she thought that her eyes were deceiving her, since he'd appeared out of nowhere. Perhaps he knew Invisibility? Or he was just really, really stealthy?

Then he did it again when the Berserker had slammed down his sword. And again. And again. And she knew.

Teleportation.

He knew True Magic. There were 2 individuals in the world who could perform True Magic. And now there were 3.

That in itself should've been interesting enough, but then he'd gotten cut. It was a small cut from when he had punched Berserker, and he probably didn't even notice.

She did though. And when she inhaled the deep, rich scent, she knew.

A person surrounded by death. No, not just surrounded. A person that death curled around like a pet. A person who had _tamed_ death.

The Master of Death.

This was true immortality. This was what she was looking for. This was her end goal.

She smiled. Going into head-on-head combat with a Sorcerer with unknown powers wasn't wise. She'd bide her time for now, and when the opportunity presents itself, she would rip the answers of immortality out of him while draining him of his sweet, delicious blood.

Her form flickered, then disappeared into the shadows.

XxX

Harry stared down at Shirou's wound. It was on both sides of Shirou's heart. Was he stabbed through the heart? The wound vaguely resembled a spear wound. It must've been Lancer's attack.

How was he even alive?

"I have nothing." He said regretfully as Rin and Saber held white bandages to the wound, trying to stop the bleeding.

Harry had Disapparated all of them back to Shirou's compound. They'd immediately placed Shirou sideways onto a futon, and applied bandages to stop the bleeding.

Harry didn't really understand the concept. Whenever he was hurt, he'd always had a spell to heal it, and if the wound was too large, a couple drops of Phoenix Tears would take care of it right away. Not to mention his body healed fast in general due to the amount of magic coursing through it.

Wizards on average could take more damage than muggles, heal faster than muggles, and just generally be better than muggles at any physical tasks simply because they have magic passively augmenting their abilities. The more magic they have, the stronger they are.

Harry still can't believe he lost an arm wrestle to Dumbledore.

Nevertheless, even passive magic couldn't heal a wound through the heart. All the healing spells Harry knew and could perform without a wand wasn't going to do a thing. He couldn't just close the cut. There could be internal bleeding inside, severed muscles, and broken bones.

"What do we do then? Do we take him to a hospital?" Rin asked desperately, looking down at Shirou.

They could. But then the doctors would ask questions. And Harry can't even mind-wipe them because there would be records.

Electronic made it really hard to maintain the Statute of Secrecy.

"We must. At this rate, he's going to. . ." Saber trailed off as Harry sensed a large amount of magic gathering at the wound. It then started closing on its own, similar to the effect of Phoenix Tears.

"Self-healing magic?" Saber said, astonished.

The wound shut completely. Shirou's breathing stabilized as the pain he felt must've melted away. His face relaxed into sleep.

Harry looked at Rin and Saber.

"Okay then."

Just to be sure, he cast a quick diagnostics charm at Shirou. It came back as green. Harry nodded. Green was healthy, purple was bad, red was dying.

It was a really basic diagnostics charm.

Just to be safe, Saber wrapped a fresh layer of bandages around Shirou while Harry and Rin cleaned up the bloody mess.

Once Shirou was bandaged and lying down, a blanket covering his form, Rin, Saber, and Harry left the room.

They stood awkwardly in the halls for a moment, trying to think of something to say.

Rin snapped her fingers. "That's right. Saber, you need clothes."

Saber looked down. "What's wrong with these?" Harry couldn't see a problem either. Of course, it was probably because of how much time he spent with Dumbledore, who seemed to relish in seeing people wince at his outfits.

"They're too old. You'd draw attention to yourself wherever you go. Since you can't dematerialize, you need ordinary clothes. Here, let me go get some for you." Rin left the hallways, presumably to get Saber a change of clothes.

Harry could hear the compound door opening and closing in the distance.

Harry looked at Saber. "There's nothing wrong with my clothes, is there?" Saber asked. Harry shook his head. "Not that I can see. Rin's probably an expert though, so you should listen to her."

"Very well."

They walked towards the living room, this time falling into a companionable silence.

Once they had sat down on the purple mats again, Harry sitting across from Saber, Harry looked intently at Saber.

"Now that Shirou and Rin aren't here, can you tell me who you are?" He asked. "I assure you, my mind is well-guarded."

Saber looked at him doubtfully.

"It is! I promise! I'm not like Shirou. I am very good at Occlumency. I was trained by the best." Harry protested.

Saber sighed. "Fine." She smiled at him.

"My name is Arturia Pendragon, though you may know me as King Arthur. My Noble Phantasm is Excalibur."

A beat.

"But you're a girl." Harry said.

"Yes."

"But you're called King Arthur. As in, a guy's name."

Saber looked down. "I was raised to be a king. Being a woman would make me appear weak, so my gender hidden and I was raised as a boy, becoming the king."

Oh. That made sense, actually. In the Wizarding World, people tended to discriminate on the basis of blood purity and species, not gender or race. But in the muggle Medieval times, people most definitely looked down on women as subservient.

"Ok then. Arturia-"

She looked up sharply. "While you know my true name, please, for the time being, call me Saber. I do not wish for my identity to be known."

Harry nodded. "Alright then. Saber, are you a witch?"

Saber blinked. "No, I'm not. I'm a knight."

Harry leaned forward. "But you're magically resistant. Absurdly so. So tell me, how are you that resistant? Is it your armor? Or maybe a passive effect of an enchanted item?"

Saber hesitated. "Before I was born, Merlin-"

"Merlin?! You mean Merlin Merlin? The wizard?!" Harry gasped. He had forgotten. King Arthur was guided by Merlin in the legends. Holy crap. He was talking to someone who knew Merlin firsthand. Even if it wasn't the same Merlin, it was still Merlin.

Saber nodded. "Yes. Merlin had implanted a dragon core within me before I was even born, which is what allows me to have such vast mana reserves as well as a high magic resistance. However, I am much more susceptible to anti-dragon attacks. On top of that, being of the Knight class gives me bonus Magic Resistance."

Harry ignored the latter part, instead focusing on the former. A dragon core implanted within a human? How would you go about planting a dragon core within a body?

Unless. . .

Harry stood up and knelt down next to Saber.

"May I check something?" He asked, hand hovering above her forehead.

She nodded. Harry put his hand on her head and sent in a pulse of magic. He withdrew his hand, comprehension on his face.

"I see." He said.

"See what?" Saber asked apprehensively.

"Merlin had infused dragon heartstrings into your heart. How the hell did he even manage that? Did he utilize the innate healing magic of dragons to accelerate the fusion? Was it runes?" Harry was now fully channeling his inner Hermione. He felt the sudden urge to go to the nearest magical library and research his hypothesis.

Saber's cough brought him back to reality. What- oh. He was still kneeling next to Saber, his face a few inches from hers.

He jumped back quickly, almost tripping over his two feet, before regaining his balance and composing himself. "My apologies. I was lost in my thoughts just now."

Saber nodded. "It's fine."

Harry paused. "Say, when I was next to you just now, I smelled some blood. Is the wound from Berserker healed yet?"

Saber shook her head. "I need more mana from Shirou to heal."

Harry nodded. "You have dragon properties, however. Hmm. . . Here, let me try something."

He put his hand onto Saber's stomach where the cut was and cast a basic regeneration spell. For dragons.

Saber gasped as she felt her wound closing on her own. "What was that?"

Harry smiled, satisfied. "You have dragon properties. I just cast a healing spell meant for dragons on you. Dragons innately have massive healing abilities, and that healing spell is designed to utilize it. It was just a theory, but it was a theory that worked."

"I had no idea such a spell existed. Thank you, Harry." Saber smiled at him.

"You're welcome."

Harry knelt back down onto his purple mat, and they settled back into a pleasant silence, Harry's eyes drifting shut as the events of the night caught up with him.

Just when he was about to fall asleep, the sliding door opened and Rin walked in, a bundle of clothes in her arms.

"I have the clothes," She said with a bright cheerful grin. Then she blinked, seeing that Harry was practically asleep sitting up. "Am I interrupting something?"

Harry inwardly groaned as he opened his eyes again and gave Rin a tired smile. "No, not at all. I'm a little tired, that's all."

"Okay, if you say so. Now get out."

Harry knit his brows in confusion. "Why?"

"Because Saber's going to be changing in here, of course. Unless you wanted to watch. . ." She raised her eyebrows suggestively.

"Rin!" Saber protested to Rin's laughter.

"Good-bye." He wasn't dealing with this.

Harry stepped out into the hallway, shutting the sliding door behind him. Why would Rin have Saber change in the living room and not the bathroom anyways? Rin's kinda weird, he decided.

"We're done. You can come in now." Rin called out about a minute later.

Harry walked back in, applying another quick cleaning charm as he noticed there was a speck of dirt on his pristine white robes.

Saber was dressed in a blue, knee-length skirt with black tights and a white shirt, with a blue string tie, and brown boots. Her arms were spread out to the side as she admired her wear.

Harry gave her a thumbs up. "Nice," He complimented.

Saber blushed a bit. Odd. You'd think she'd be used to being complimented- oh. She had mentioned being raised and living as a boy, right? And it's a common law of the universe that boys hate getting compliments on their looks from other boys, so she probably wasn't complimented very often.

"Thank you," she said.

Harry's countenance then became serious. It's time to remedy some of his problems.

"Rin, do you know where I can buy a wand?" He asked her, already considering how he'd get the funds. Shirou was rich. At least, Harry thinks he's rich. Surely he can afford about seven Galleons. If he can't, then Harry could probably pressurize several cubic meters of graphite into diamond, then sell it.

Rin blinked. "Wand? Why would you need a wand?" They don't use wands?!

"What? Then how do you guys cast magic? Wandlessly?" There was no way. Wandless magic was way too weak. Maybe they used a staff. Harry's gaze then fell on Saber. She could channel magic through her sword though. So maybe they used weapons as a wand?

Rin rolled up her left sleeve revealing glowing light blue lines that formed a pattern on her skin.

"We use Magic Crests, of course. It's a series of Magic Circuits engraved onto our skin that have spells stored inside them, which are passed down in the family. We cast the spells stored inside them by channeling magical energy into the Crest and activating the spell with the relevant incantation." She said as if this was third-grade knowledge.

Were those runes? Those were not runes. At least, they didn't resemble any runes Harry had seen before. And Harry had seen almost all of them. And Rin said it was passed down in the family? With spells stored inside of them?! That was almost exactly like the Elder Wand, which absorbed the knowledge and memories of the wizards who used it. A living, breathing wand that's engraved on the skin. That's really complicated.

"Oh. I just use a wand that has a magical core which is stabilized and bolstered with wood." Harry spoke after a few seconds. "My wand is composed of holly wood and a phoenix feather."

Saber and Rin stared at him. "A phoenix?! Where did you get a phoenix feather from? How did you get the phoenix feather?!"

Harry shifted uncomfortably under their gazes. "Umm. . . a phoenix gave my teacher, Dumbledore, his feathers, which he then gave to a wandmaker to create my wand."

Saber's and Rin's eyes widened to the point where it looked painful. "Your teacher has met a phoenix?"

Harry shook his head. "No."

Rin breathed a sigh of relief as Saber visibly deflated. "Ok, good good. It sounded like that for a moment."

Harry smiled. "They didn't just meet. Dumbledore and Fawkes are partners. They work together as equals."

Oh, their eyes had widened again. "Your teacher is considered an equal by a Phantasmal Beast?!"

"Yup. Well, okay, I'm pretty sure that Fawkes looks up to Dumbledore, but that's probably only because Dumbledore supplies him with treats. Hey, you need to breathe."

Rin inhaled when she realized she had stopped breathing. "Your teacher is acknowledged as an equal by a Phantasmal Beast, who gave a feather to create your wand. And he gives him treats. And he named him Fawkes."

"Yeah, pretty much. Why, what's wrong?"

This time, it was Saber that spoke. "I don't think you realize what you're saying. Most Phantasmal Beasts have disappeared by now, existing only in the Reverse Side of the World. A phoenix even appearing in the Age of Man is a miracle, much less co-existing with a human."

Oh. Right. Different worlds and all that.

Wait.

"But didn't you say that- nevermind." He was about to ask about how Merlin had implanted dragon heartstrings into Saber, but then remembered Rin didn't know Saber's true identity.

"Well, where I'm from, these Phantasmal Beasts exist to this day. I mean, we had unicorns living in the forest behind my school."

"What?"

"Oh yeah. I still remember when I used to collect their tail hairs that would get caught on bushes and branches and sell them for a profit. Oh, the good old days."

"What?"

"In my fourth year, I had to fight a dragon in a competition I was dragged into."

"What?"

"To be fair, the dragon was supposed heavily drugged and weakened by runes, but someone sabotaged it." Three guesses as to who sabotaged it, and the first two don't count. Harry still remembered the raw panic he had felt when he realized the dragon was 1) very much at its full strength and 2) pissed off like hell at him.

"How are you even alive?!" Rin screamed.

Harry shrugged. "70% skill, 5% luck, and 25% pure awesomeness." Hey, him living this long was pretty impressive. He could afford to take a little pride in it.

Rin then narrowed her eyes. "You're not from this world, are you."

Harry blinked. "Well, no. I thought I already told you. I had squeezed through a crack in your Reality."

"That means. . . You know the Second Magic, Kaleidoscope." Rin said in awe.

Harry tilted his head to the side, confused. "What's that?"

"The ability to travel to parallel dimensions," Rin said, suddenly looking a bit fearful of Harry. Harry didn't like that. It reminded him of the time when it was leaked to the Daily Prophet that he was a master of Dark Magic.

"No, it's not that. I can't travel through dimensions on purpose. In fact, the only reason I managed it this time was through an absurd amount of luck. It was an accident, I swear."

And it was definitely luck that allowed Harry to survive. Luck that Voldemort had decided to help out, luck that Harry held out as long as he did, and luck that a crack in Reality was opened at that time.

"Okay, thank the gods," Rin breathed out. "What world are you from, then?"

Harry smiled as he thought of Hogwarts and his friends. "A good one. A very, very good one."

Rin looked at him but didn't push further. "Anyways, to answer your question, we don't use wands in our magecraft."

Harry steepled his hands together on the table. "Another thing. What is True Magic and Magecraft? Why is me teleporting such a big deal?"

"Magecraft is anything that can be replicated with technology. Creating flames, for example, is magecraft, since a normal human can light up a match to get the same effect. True Magic, or Sorcery, is impossible to reproduce in any era, even if given unlimited time and resources. The results of its use is impossible. Teleportation is one example. Time travel, dimension travel, and resurrection of the dead also fall within the category." Rin lectured, one hand on her hip.

"Oh. Time travel too? That's weird. One of my best friends was given a time turner so she could travel back in time to take more classes."

"What?!"

"Nevermind, nevermind. Continue?"

Rin crossed her arms. "Right. So far, apparently you can do all four of them."

Harry shook his head. "Like I said, I don't think I can replicate the effects of dimensional travel. My resurrection was also a unique event. And I need a time turner to be able to time travel, all of which were destroyed recently."

Rin eyed him skeptically before sighing. "I'll believe you for now. Any more True Magic you want to tell us now?"

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Saber stopped him. "She is still the enemy, Harry. It is not wise to reveal all the cards up your sleeves."

Oh right. He was in a War, and Rin was still an enemy.

Rin tapped her fingers against her arm before speaking. "I was actually hoping to form an alliance with Shirou. Until we take out Berserker, of course."

Saber looked at her before smiling. "Shirou is still a complete novice, and it would be nice for him to be trained by a competent magus. Not to mention that Berserker is extremely difficult to defeat. Yes, an alliance would be good."

As Saber spoke, Harry thought about all the spells in his repertoire that couldn't be replicated by muggles. Did levitation count? Although that could technically be replicated with magnets. Summoning lightning? No, nature can already do that by itself. Oh, there was one.

"Right, so if we're going to be in an alliance, then I suppose I'll just tell you. Unless you have objections?" Harry asked Saber, who merely shook her head.

"I can conjure things. I can also manipulate mass and volume." Harry said.

Rin's eyes grew wide again. "You mean. . . you can violate the law of conservation of mass?"

"Temporarily, yes. I can do it permanently with runes sustaining the conjured object."

"Denial of Nothingness. . ." Rin whispered.

"What?" Harry asked.

Rin looked at him. "The First Magic is called the Denial of Nothingness. Nobody knows what it truly is, as nobody has been able to do it before, but it's been hypothesized that it's essentially denying Nothing, and creating something from nothing."

Harry scratched his head. "You can phrase conjuration like that, I guess."

"And you said you can manipulate mass and volume?" Rin continued.

Harry merely placed his hand on the table, applying a Featherlight charm. He then slammed his fist down, and it bounced up from the recoil.

"Yeah. Manipulating volume is a bit more tricky though. I need a wand to do magic as complicated as that."

Rin lifted up the table with a pinky, testing it out, before passing it to Saber, who also used a single finger to hold it up in the air.

"Amazing. . ." Rin murmured.

"Agreed," said Saber.

Rin then looked at Harry, and the intensity of her gaze frightened him.

"You need to get a wand. Find out a way. Then show me more True Magic." She said.

Harry gulped. He didn't like the hungry look in her eyes.

"I'll try."

Rin shook her head. "No. You will not try. You will _do_."

XxX

Rin had left to go to Shirou's room, saying something about "surprising him when he wakes." Harry let her go. Even though he was probably more powerful than her, she still scared him.

Saber stood up as well, Harry following her.

"I need to minimize my mana expenditure by sleeping," she said. "Good night, Harry."

"Good night."

He walked in the opposite direction towards the guest rooms when he froze and turned around.

"Wait. Saber, where are you going?"

Saber looked at him. "To the dojo."

"You're going to sleep in the dojo?" Harry asked disbelievingly.

At her nod, he gave her a strange look before gesturing for her to follow him.

"There's no need for that. There's plenty of guest rooms in this compound." Harry was still awed by the size of this compound. And to think it was all for one person. Okay, that wasn't fair. This could've been passed down in Shirou's family.

"I do not wish to intrude in one of Shirou's rooms," Saber said, now looking a bit unsure.

Oh right. The honor of a knight, and all that. Harry rolled his eyes. There's being polite, then there's _being polite_.

"Fine. Do you want to sleep in my room, then? Since he already put me in one." Harry offered.

Saber seemed to hesitate for a moment before nodding.

"Very well then."

Harry led the silent walk to the room he'd woken up in earlier, the layout of the compound still etched in his mind. Using magic to remember things felt like cheating, though. It wasn't like wizards didn't do it, however. In fact, he vaguely recalled one man in the Ministry who could speak over 200 languages. What was his name again? Kneel? Squat? Crouch! That's what it was. There was no way Crouch could remember that many languages without using magic to cement it all in his mind.

Once they reached the room, Harry cast another cleaning charm on himself, then on the futon, then on the floor. He would cast one on Saber, but he wasn't sure if her Magic Resistance would nullify it.

"Would you like one?" Harry asked when he saw Saber looking at him.

She nodded, closing her eyes in preparation. Harry cast the cleaning charm on her, unsure if it would work.

It did. Looks like Saber's Magic Resistance only applied to things that affected her directly. Since the cleaning charm targeted the dirt, sweat, and grime, it wasn't nullified.

Saber opened her eyes and examined herself. "That's a really useful spell."

"It is. You can have the futon. I'll sleep on the floor." Harry suggested, already sitting down.

Saber disagreed. "We can share the futon," she said.

Harry tilted his head before shrugging. "Yeah, sure. You take the left side, I take the right?"

"Yes, that will do," Saber said. Harry was already scooting onto the futon, making sure there was enough room for Saber as well. Luckily, she was small. Saber dropped down next to him, facing up, eyes already closing.

"Good night, Harry." Harry could feel her body warmth next to him. She smelled good, like fresh air and grass. Her breathing had already evened out, signifying that she'd fallen fast asleep.

"Good night, Saber," He said before turning to the side and casting a few protective enchantments over them.

Then he blissfully entered sleep for the second time that night.

XxX

His eyes opened. He was in the clearing again. Voldemort was also there, and he had a serious expression on his face.

"We need to talk." He said.

Harry nodded. "We do."

"What do you plan to do against this Berserker?" Voldemort asked. He snapped his fingers, a perfect replica of Berserker appearing before them. "You need powerful spells to take this thing down, and you can't do any of them without a wand."

Harry frowned, deep in thought. "At this point, I suppose I can just Disapparate away whenever he shows up."

Voldemort shook his head. "As usual, you don't see the full picture. What if Rin, Saber, or Shirou is also there?"

"Then I Disapparate them out too."

"And if they have anti-Apparition wards?"

Harry hesitated. "I don't think they do. You heard how Rin reacted to my teleportation."

"No. Do not assume things. The last thing you need is an enemy pulling out some spells out of their ass that can stop Apparition. Not to mention your Fading only works with yourself, not others." Voldemort said. Harry blew out a few strands of hair covering his face. Voldemort was right, as always. Assuming things in a battlefield would only lead to death. Only the cold hard iron of certainty would form the foundation of success.

Voldemort was also being very hypocritical, seeing as he had underestimated Harry countless times. Harry didn't bring that up though, since he needed Voldemort's help.

"What should I do then?" Harry asked.

"I recommend killing Shirou, destroying your status as a Servant, then doing whatever you want after that. There's no point in fighting this War for him." Even as Voldemort spoke, Harry was already adamantly shaking his head.

"No way. I won't do that."

Voldemort shrugged. "Then you better find a way to get a wand. And if you can't procure one, make one."

Harry looked at him hopefully. "I don't suppose you'll help me with that?"

"Even if I wanted to, I can't. Creating a wand has never made it onto my list of priorities. My yew wand and later the Elder wand was all I ever needed. And even if they broke, I could always go torture a wandmaker for another."

Harry grew more subdued at that. "Okay then."

"Oh, that's right," Voldemort began, "When you were fighting, I sensed something nearby."

"What?" Harry asked.

Voldemort nodded, a piercing stare on his face as if he was deciphering the secrets of the universe. "I'm not surprised you didn't sense it. It was faint and ancient. The only reason why I picked up on its presence is because I'm far more attuned to the Darkness than you ever will be. Whatever the case, this thing was powerful. Be careful."

"Alright." This was unsettling. This was very unsettling. Another player has entered the battlefield.

. . . "I still can't believe you decided to sleep next to the girl." Voldemort said.

Harry frowned. "Is there a problem?"

Voldemort stared at Harry incredulously. "You don't know?" Then he began to laugh. "Are you really that socially awkward?! You are! You totally are! Even _I _can understand, and I'm a Dark Lord!"

Harry didn't know what Voldemort was talking about, and he didn't really care either. Sleeping is sleeping. Did it really matter who was next to you? It's not like you would be awake for it.

"Voldemort, do me a favor, and shut up for once. I need to plan." Harry requested almost pleadingly.

To his surprise, Voldermot agreed, the last of his chuckles dying out being replaced by a somber expression. "Typically I wouldn't, but this is a special occasion. You need all the time you can get. Just. . . Harry, don't you dare die. If you do, then I'll murder you."

Harry cracked a smile. "I hate you too, you bastard."

And so they sat, each lost in their own thoughts and strategies, until the clearing cracked and dissolved into light once more.

XxX

Harry woke to the sound of Shirou gasping. Well, okay. That wasn't correct. Harry woke up to his protective enchantments being activated.

Without a wand, he can only cast an alert charm, form a small shield that covered his skin capable of blocking a poisoned dagger, and charm a small rock to leap up to intercept any spell cast at Harry's direction.

Harry was woken up by the alert charm, which created a buzzing sound in his ears. Then Shirou's gasps made sure that Harry stayed awake.

Harry sat up, seeing Shirou blushing furiously with his mouth wide open staring at Saber and Harry. Saber too was sitting up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"Y-y-y. . ." Shirou stammered, seemingly unable to form words. Behind him stood Rin with a crafty smile on her lips.

Shirou finally found his voice. "You two slept with each other?!"

"Yeah," Harry said, already standing up and stretching.

Saber did the same next to him. "Good morning, Harry, Shirou, Rin."

Rin clapped Shirou on the back. "My my, Shirou. What naughty Servants you have. Perhaps they took after their Master?"

Shirou seemed to turn redder, if possible. "It wasn't me! I promise, it wasn't me!"

Harry briefly pondered what could've caused such a large reaction before dismissing it. It was probably one of this world's quirks.

Even so, why did it feel like Sirius was smiling proudly down at him? He could practically feel the phantom sensation of his hair getting ruffled.

"Shirou, are your wounds healed?" Saber asked. Caught off guard, Shirou touched the place where his wound used to be before saying "Yes, everything's good as new."

Saber smiled at him. "I am glad. I admit, I'm impressed. We did not expect you to possess self-healing magic."

Shirou frowned, confused. Harry picked that up right away. So Shirou didn't know? Or was he concealing a secret?

Then Saber shifted her expression into a serious one. "Shirou, there is something I feel I must say regarding last night. I must ask you to not pursue after us when we are in battle; instead, you should run as far away as possible.

"What choice did I have?" Shirou asked, raising his arms defensively. "It wasn't our fault Illyasviel decided to take us hostage."

"She wouldn't have been able to if you hadn't ran after us in the forest. Rin, you too. While you may be a decent mage, against Illyasviel, I fear that you are outclassed."

"Sorry about that, by the way." Rin said behind Shirou.

"Besides, you would risk your life to save a Servant you barely know?" Saber asked Shirou.

Shirou tilted his head to the side. "We shook on it, didn't we?"

Saber's eyes widened before she turned to the side, hand clasped over her chest.

"I see. Your words are gratifying to hear."

Shirou smile faded away when she turned back to him with a look that tolerated no argument. "However, please refrain from doing the same thing in the future. I will have you win the Grail for me."

"You. . . want the Grail too?" Shirou asked.

"Yes. So that I may fulfill my own wish." Saber replied.

Harry glanced at Saber out of the corner of his eye. Just what kind of wish would she have?

And could he, with his magic, fulfill them?

Because no matter what they said, any ritual that involved fights to the death to power it cannot possibly be that straightforward and pure.

Could it?

Rin clapped her hands together, startling all of them. "Well, I'll be off then. I'll be back later with my stuff. So prepare my room." And she left.

"You accepted her offer of an alliance then?" Saber asked Shirou.

He nodded. "Y-yeah. If that's alright with you guys."

"It is."

"I don't see a problem with it." And Harry really didn't. The less people he'll have to fight, the better.

Shirou smiled. "Good."

Then Rin popped her head back into the room. "Oh, and Shirou? Try to keep your Servants from. . . sleeping with each other again, will you?" And she left, the sound of her laughter echoing down the halls.

Shirou spluttered and grew red once more.

Harry just looked at Saber, who looked back at him just as confusedly.

What did they mean?

* * *

**Wow. I honestly did not expect Fate: Sorcerer to be this well received. You guys are awesome.**

**I've never really understood why nothing happened to Harry once the Horcrux was removed. There should've at least been some aftereffects. **

**Writing Voldemort was hard. At first, I was going to make him like how he was in canon: insane and refusing to cooperate. But Voldemort is way too pragmatic for that. If he has the opportunity to make the lives of his enemy hell, then he will take it. And if he has to act like an annoying child to do so. . . well, we already know his acting skills are state-of-the-art.**

**Rin accepted the alliance with Shirou because of Harry. She doesn't want to go against both Saber and a Sorcerer. **

**Yes, I Kaneki'd Harry. Though there is a secondary reason for his white hair.**

**The wiki never said if Dead Apostles were involved in any of the Holy Grail Wars at all. Though I imagine at least some would've showed up, if only to alleviate their boredom for a little while.**

**And as for the Master of Death. . . well, I've never really liked the cliche of Harry already knowing he's the Master of Death whenever he's travelling to different universes. He's still 23, after all. The not-aging thing shouldn't be notice until he's around 40 at most, since wizards naturally age slow. So for now, he's unaware that he's the MOD.**

**He doesn't have the Cloak, the Stone, or the Wand though. I'll leave it up to you guys to conspire how that works.**

**Legilimency works on all creatures. I made an executive decision for that. Berserker's God Hand may block magical and physical attacks, but its useless against Legilimency. Although now that he's been exposed to it once, he's immune to it.**

**I tried to include a stalled atmosphere in the Berserker fight. He can't kill Harry, and Harry can't kill him. ****Harry needs his wand to pull off his most advanced and powerful spells. Not to mention how Berserker is just overpowered.**

**Illya took hostages this time simply because she's against a Sorcerer. She may not have outwardly shown it, but she was definitely panicking a little bit.**

**Harry revealed some of his magic to Rin and Saber because it wouldn't make any sense for him to not to. They're allies, and keeping secrets from allies will only result in death, something Harry knows all too well. In other situations, hiding his abilities may make sense, but not in this one.**

**Hiding the fact that he's from another world also is useless, since Rin had already figured it out. Not to mention Harry thinks that the knowledge is useless in the long run, since what happened to him couldn't be replicated.**

**And as for the last scene. . . well, let me just say that the only adult role models Harry had was Dumbledore and Sirius. And Dumbledore only taught him morals and stuff. It was up to Sirius to teach him the rest. And Sirius is. . . well, Sirius. So he can understand some dirty jokes, be lost on others, and be completely clueless on normal human behavior simply because it's Sirius that taught him everything.**

**Oh, and Harry/Saber, anyone? **

**Ok but actually though, I'm still not decided on the pairings for this story. Would you guys like to see Harry/Saber or a Shirou/Saber with Harry acting as a wingman for Saber?**

**I think that's it for now. Oh, and would you guys be interested in me starting a forum on Fate: Sorcerer where I can answer any questions you guys have directly? And also post deleted scenes and such?**

**Thank you for reading, and please review :)**

**euphoric**


	3. Wandcraft

She had been broken once.

Used as a tool by the gods, her emotions were manipulated so that she would fall in love with a man.

Forced to betray her kingdom, forced to betray her family, and forced to kill her brother.

She might have been okay with that. She did love her husband, even if it was a false love.

She killed for him. She lied for him. She gave up everything she had for him.

Then she was betrayed by the ones her husband called his friends and allies. They didn't like her. They never did. But even when they were chased out in exile, she could still have found happiness. As long as she was with her husband.

Then he betrayed her. The one person she had sacrificed everything for. He left her for a younger woman, and she was driven away, cast once again in exile.

Is it really any wonder that she had been broken? Is it really a surprise that she massacred everyone who was involved except for her husband?

They called her a liar. They called her a murderer. So she shaped herself to fit the mold they had given her. She roamed the Greek lands as a true witch, bringing disaster and misfortune wherever she went.

She had listened to no reason. She had been insane.

She had been broken.

Even when she had died and was summoned to the world as Caster, she had not been repaired.

Then she met him.

She had been fading away, her spiritual body dissipating, when she encountered him at the foot of the Ryuudou Temple. And he agreed to be her Master. He cared for her, he showed her loyalty, he showed her kindness.

She had been broken once.

But not anymore. His love for her and her love for him had repaired her. Healed her.

Her desire to win the Holy Grail had vanished completely. What use did she have for a thing that could grant any wish, when her wish was already being granted?

All she wanted was to preserve what little time they had together. She would disappear. She knew that. Living together with him forever was nothing but a foolish hope that only showed itself in her dreams.

Until _he_ appeared.

A practitioner of True Magic. A Sorcerer. She had been observing the fight against Berserker when she first discovered him.

He was an anomaly. He was a Servant, but he wasn't a Servant at the same time. All seven classes, Saber, Archer, Lancer, Assassin, Caster, Berserker, and Rider, had been filled.

But with that anomaly brought hope. He had already managed to do several impossible things. Why not another?

True Magic has been described as achieving miracles, after all.

And maybe, just maybe, he may achieve the miracle of allowing her to live with her lover, her true lover, for forever, happily ever after. He was a Sorcerer from the old. There had to be something that he could do.

And if he didn't agree to help her, that was fine. She had Rule Breaker. He may not fit any of the classes, but he still has the Command Seals of a Servant.

And she would use all three at once if it meant achieving her miracles.

She had been a princess once. She was allowed to dream. Wasn't she?

"Master, your smile is much wider today. Did you exchange mana with Kuzuki last night?"

She blushed. She had, actually. Very passionately.

"S-s-shut up, Assassin. Go practice some sword strikes or something. I need to go plan."

Assassin nodded, walking away with his sword slung over his shoulders casually. Then he stopped and turned around.

"Oh, and you should invest in better soundproofing. I could hear you from three rooms away."

Then he disappeared in a blur of speed, her broom slamming down where he had just been.

XxX

Harry sipped from the cup of green tea he was given. It was really bitter. It needed a lot more milk, cream, and sugar. But he could deal with it.

He was once again kneeling on the square purple mat. Saber was kneeling across from him, also quietly sipping her tea, while Shirou sat next to him, his cheeks still turning a bit red whenever he looked at them.

Normal people, Harry decided, were weird.

Saber set down her cup. "Harry, Shirou, since both of you know next to nothing of the Holy Grail War, it is my duty to instruct you what it entails."

All the tinges of red disappeared from Shirou's cheeks as Harry lowered his cup. He needed to know this.

"The Grail summons seven Servants, each with their own class."

Shirou blinked. "Class? You mean like a bowsman or a swordsman?"

Saber nodded, looking into her teacup. "Yes. The Grail summoned seven Heroic Spirits that fit their class. These are the seven classes: Saber. Lancer. Archer. Berserker. Caster. Assassin. Rider."

"Oh, I get it," Shirou said. "You were a hero who is proficient with the sword, so you were summoned by me as Saber." Harry didn't get it. First is the issue of getting the souls of the Heroic Spirits. Where did the Grail get it from? Was it like the Resurrection Stone, bringing back the dead in a state of half-life?

But Saber didn't look translucent or frail. She was solid and colorful. She had even bled. The shades brought back by the Resurrection Stone had no body, much less blood. So had the Grail surpassed even the Resurrection Stone in reaching into the land of the dead and bringing out a soul?

Was it true resurrection like what had happened in the Final Battle?

Second, what if the hero was good at multiple classes? Harry was probably Caster, because of his magic, but his spells concealed him to the degree that being Assassin would probably have also worked. Was the choice arbitrary, or did it choose the one the Servant had the strongest affinity for?

Whatever. In the long run, it didn't really matter.

"Yes. Typically, that would also be the Saber class's shortcoming. When battling an enemy you know to be more skillful in short-range combat, then you wouldn't attack them directly, instead prioritizing long-range attacks over close-combat ones. However, since Harry can provide ranged support with his spells, we can adequately cover each other's shortcomings, giving us an advantage over the other teams." Saber explained.

Now that made sense. Harry didn't really like enemies who fought in close-range. A magically-enhanced fist could be faster than the wand, depending on which spell is being cast.

However, with Saber being able to handle close-combat and Harry taking care of the long-range, they would be the perfect team.

Shirou also made a sound of understanding. Good. Harry didn't want to be stuck with a stupid Master. He mentally shuddered at the thought of someone like Crabbe being his Master.

Harry wasn't sure if he could last a single night before having to sever Crabbe's hands from his body.

"In addition," Saber continued, "We also possess secret weapons known as Noble Phantasms. My sword, Lancer's spear, and Archer's bow are all examples of Noble Phantasms." So that was what Saber meant by Excalibur being a Noble Phantasm.

"However, a significant amount of mana is required to activate them. I can use mine once, maybe twice, before I collapse." Attacks that required a large amount of magic to use. Incredibly devastating, but also with negative drawbacks. "On top of that, we must call out the name of the Noble Phantasm when activating it, so a Servant is at risk of his identity being discovered."

"So that's why you keep your sword invisible," Shirou said.

"Yes."

"Are your mana levels back to normal?" Harry asked Saber. She shook her head. "Shirou is a novice Master, unable to replenish my mana to its fullest capacity. As such, I will need to sleep later to minimize my mana expenditure."

Harry blinked. "Wait, you had said the same thing last night. Why do you need to minimize your mana expenditure? Are you using magic right now?"

Saber looked at Harry questioningly. "Yes. I am currently expending mana in order to maintain my presence on Earth."

"But why?"

Saber frowned, confused. "Because the mere fact that Servants exist defies nature itself. The Will of the Planet is constantly tearing at us, trying to erase us completely. The only thing that prevents that is using mana to counteract the effects. Why, do you not need to use mana to keep yourself on Earth?"

What? The Will of the Planet? What in Merlin's name is supposed to be the "Will of the Planet?" Unless she's talking about Reality, only using a different name for it. Yes, that must be it.

Reality conforms to a series of laws and facts. Energy is conserved. Time only moves forward. Space is constant. Magic violates these laws with ease. The moment you stop using magic, however, the laws of Reality take back over.

For example, when transfiguring an object, the only way for the thing to stay in the transfigured state is if you're supplying it with magic. Once you cut off the magic, then the object returns to its original state immediately.

Runes can be used to sustain a violation of a law. Runes draw in magic from their surroundings. A transfiguration could be maintained indefinitely if runes are drawn on top, only being canceled if the runes are destroyed or something cancels the magic flow.

But at the same time, that also makes no sense. Because while you need to continually use magic to have an object defy the laws of Reality, you don't for living magical beings. Wizards, goblins, house elves, dragons, and every other magical creature generates magic just by existing. That magic then keeps them from being erased from existence by Reality.

Even after death, that magic still exists in their remains, allowing it to stay in Reality.

Saber literally has dragon heartstrings implanted into her body. She should be a burning hot flame of magical energy. So why does she need to manually use magic just to keep herself in Reality?

Unless. . . unless the magic of Harry's world was different than the magic of this world. That explains why stuff like Apparition, conjuration, space-manipulating charms, and time turners don't exist. That also explains why magical creatures are still around in Harry's world, while in this one they're apparently in the Reverse Side of the World.

He needed to test this theory. "No, I don't continuously use magic. I already passively generate magic, and that allows me to stay in Reality. I think this is because the magic you use and the magic I use are two completely different things. Can you use some of your magic please?"

Saber's eyes widened momentarily before settling into a pensive expression. "That does make sense. If you come from a different world, there's no reason to believe that there wouldn't be a different magic within it."

She then lifted one arm. Harry looked at it intently, pumping magic to his eyes, while stretching his sensing capabilities to the limits. He was now aware of everything magical in this house, from himself to Saber to Shirou.

Then Saber _punched_, far faster than any human should've been able to.

And Harry knew.

"I see. The magic you just used. . . it's similar to mine. In fact, if I wasn't paying attention, I'd think that it was nearly identical. But there are still minute differences." Harry observed, running one hand through his hair. "I can sense your magic and I can probably even manipulate it. But it isn't the same magic as my own."

The source of the magic must be completely different. And perhaps even Reality itself is different. Saber spoke of Earth having a literal will. Reality wasn't sentient, it just had its laws.

Saber pulled back her hand. "That is good. Our enemies will not expect a whole new type of magic. We can use that to our advantage."

Harry nodded. But he really needed to get a wand first.

Shirou had been looking at their conversation with a lost expression on his face. "So what you're saying is that your magic is different from my magecraft?"

"Yeah."

Shirou shrugged before standing up. "Now that's settled, let's have breakfast."

XxX

Shirou set down the dishes in front of Harry and Saber.

"While I may not be able to replenish Saber's mana, I still can satiate your hunger," He said.

"This looks amazing," Harry said in awe.

Saber could only stare at the food in front of her ravenously.

Meat covered in an orange sauce sat on top of a bed of lettuce and tomatoes. There was carrot soup, the color exquisite. Thinly diced lettuce combined with cucumber pieces and half an egg resulted in a salad that looked delicious. A simple bowl of rice sat elegantly.

The presentation was beautiful. The problem were the chopsticks. It took a couple of tries before Harry was able to hold it correctly. Then Harry took a bite.

It was delicious.

"Wow. This is really good," Harry said in between bites. It was just as good, if not even better than the food at Hogwarts. Saber didn't say anything, instead taking a single bite of the meat and chewing slowly.

Shirou smiled down at them. "Thanks."

The phone rang. Harry twitched slightly, remembering the last encounter he had had with an electronic phone. It had burst into flames while he was holding it, leading to some very awkward questions from the muggle police.

Shirou walked into the hall to answer it. Harry stayed behind. He stared at Saber, who had begun eating everything at a rapid pace while still maintaining table etiquette. How could she eat so much?! She was small to begin with!

Saber noticed his stare and immediately curled around the plates in front of her.

"Mine," she hissed possessively.

Whoa. Did she really like the food that much?

Harry carefully slid his plate of meat over to Saber, who promptly took it and began devouring it too.

Wow.

Shirou walked back into the kitchen and began packing a bento. "I've got to deliver a bento to Fuji-nee."

"Alright," Harry called back, still chewing. Shirou really was a great cook.

Once they had finished, the three of them walked out, Saber leading the way, with Shirou and Harry walking next to each other.

"Say, Masters are supposed to be secretive, right? So I don't think something like last night would happen during the day. I should be safe." Shirou said.

Harry shook his head. "You can't assume things, Shirou. That'll only lead to you getting killed. This is a War. Attacks can and will happen at any time, and you must maintain CONSTANT VIGILANCE." The last part was shouted into Shirou's ear. Shirou jumped away, startled.

Harry started chuckling and even Saber cracked a grin. "Sorry, sorry. I had a teacher once who would yell that at us all the time. In class, in the hallways, once he even snuck into our rooms at night."

"That was mean," Shirou pouted. "Your teacher sounds like an asshole."

"Yeah, he probably was. Still, I'm serious though. Expect an attack to come at any time."

"Harry is correct. Unexpected events are known to happen, and you need us to protect you from another Servant. I will not let you get hurt on my watch again." Saber said while scanning the roads in front of her.

Shirou only sighed. "Hey, if anyone approaches you guys, just shake your head so they won't think that you speak Japanese."

They walked in silence, Harry admiring the way Japan was structured. It was really different from Hogsmeade. For one, the buildings were so much taller. Everything was also really cramped together.

Internally, however, he was busy thinking about how to create a wand. Acquiring the wood should be easy enough. He just has to Apparate into a forest to get some holly wood.

It's the magical core that's the problem. With no magical creatures around, he may have to get a little creative.

Saber suddenly stopped and looked around.

Harry tensed. "What is it?"

"I sense traces of mana around." Saber said.

Harry relaxed. "Oh. Yeah, that. It doesn't feel dangerous at all. Do you think it's a threat?"

Saber shook her head. "No. While something does feel off, I do not think it should pose any danger."

"I told you we would be safe, didn't I?" Shirou smiled.

Saber and Harry stood in front of a large building. The walls were white and everything else was brown. It looked like one of those ancient Japanese dojos Harry had once seen in a muggle movie.

Shirou had gone inside, telling them to stay there and not talk to anyone. Saber was looking out to the side, apparently deep in thought. Harry looked into the building.

Shirou was talking to a purple-haired girl dressed in a white kyudo-gi and black hakama with a chest protector. She was staring blankly at Shirou. No, that wasn't it. She was staring past Shirou's outstretched hand at Saber and Harry.

Though her gaze seemed to be more focused on Saber.

Then she turned around, running further into the building. Another girl with short brown hair wearing the same thing replaced her, walking up to speak with Shirou.

Saber tugged at Harry's sleeves. "Let's go analyze this area."

Harry nodded. He needed to familiarize himself with Shirou's school. They walked off, leaving Shirou still talking to the brown-haired girl, unaware that they'd gone.

"Did you go to a school similar to this?" Saber asked Harry while they walked through the grounds.

Harry shook his head. "I went to a place called Hogwarts." He smiled, remembering the sheer awesomeness of the place. "It was way bigger. It was a castle, actually. To enter, we would enter these carriages pulled by Thestrals. Inside, it was as if the castle was alive. Stairs would move, steps would disappear one moment and reappear the next. The paintings had moving images of people, who would help the students get around if they were lost. And we were lost a lot. Students were separated into four Houses. I was a Gryffindor, the house of bravery and chivalry. The teachers would ask questions, and if we got them correct, we would earn points for our House."

Saber smiled. "That sounds like a beautiful place to learn."

"It was. How about you? Where did you learn to be a knight?"

Saber hesitated. "We're still out in the open, and I can't be sure that we're secure."

Ah, right, of course. Secret identity and all that. "Yeah, it's fine. I understand."

They strolled into the building, Harry frowned at how easy it was. Were there no security in schools like these? Could anyone just walk in unquestioned like they were now?

Shirou's school was filled with gaping holes in the security. Saber seemed to think the same, her eyes narrowing slightly when they entered.

They walked past a large room containing small lockers stacked on top of each other. They turned the corner.

Then Harry heard it. Saber did too, stopping in place.

This was the breathing pattern of somebody balanced. It was perfectly efficient. Not a single breath was wasted. The sound of his footsteps too were perfectly balanced. No shuffles, no hesitation. Each step was taken decisively and with purpose.

Then a man walked out of a classroom in front of them. His back was turned, and he shut the door behind him silently before turning around to face them.

His movements were also efficient. His entire body was relaxed, wasting no energy, yet Harry had the feeling that he could burst into action at any moment.

He had spiky black hair and glasses sitting on his face. His eyes were dark, almost black. He was wearing a black suit. He stood, back perfectly straight, both feet facing towards Saber and Harry.

Harry was wary. This form of breathing and walking. . . Harry had only seen them in one person before.

Voldemort. After the numerous Dark rituals he had performed on himself, his physical capabilities increased a hundredfold. Of course, he still wasted a lot of movement with grandeur gestures and flourishes, but that was for the dramatics.

This man, this teacher in front of him was dangerous.

Suddenly there was the sound of rapid footsteps and heavy breathing behind them. Inefficient with lots of movement wasted.

"Kuzuki-sensei!" It was Shirou. He stopped in front of Saber and Harry, panting and resting with his hands on his knees for a moment before he straightened and stood, arms raised up as if protecting Harry and Saber.

"Emiya?" The man- Kuzuki's voice was deep.

"They're, uh, acquaintances of mine. I'm giving them a tour of the school," Shirou explained.

"We've never had foreign exchange students at the school before," Kuzuki stared into Shirou's eyes with the same emotionless gaze.

Harry felt a small twinge of indignance at that. He was 23 years old, for Merlin's sake. So what if he was short and still looked like he was a teenager?

"If they enroll, they will be objects of curiosity," Kuzuki said, turning around. "If they're your friends, look out for them." With that, he walked away from them in the same perfectly efficient walking style.

Shirou breathed a sigh of relief, relaxing. "Yes, sir."

Then Kuzuki stopped. "Incidentally, Emiya," He turned back again, a stern look on his face. "Outdoor shoes are strictly forbidden in the building." Then he left.

Shirou led them to the visitor's lounge, where they replaced their shoes with the type of sandals you wear before you go to sleep. They were brown. Harry looked at his with a small look of disgust, before slipping them on.

They clashed horribly with his white color scheme. Oh well. It was only temporary. He could deal with it.

"Shirou, about that teacher," Saber began.

"Did you guys sense something about Kuzuki-sensei?" Shirou asked apprehensively.

Saber shared a glance with Harry who nodded to confirm her theory. She looked back at Shirou.

"No. At first, I thought there was more to him than it seemed, but he is not a mage and he doesn't smell of blood."

Shirou smiled. "Yeah, I'd be surprised too if I learned that he was a mage." Then he frowned. "What do you mean by more to him than it seemed?"

Harry answered this one. "His breathing was perfectly efficient. His walking, too. They were both exceedingly natural and balanced."

Saber nodded. "Frankly, I was quite impressed. His pupils must be at ease with him as a teacher."

At ease?! Kuzuki scared the crap out of Harry. If Kuzuki was his teacher, then Harry would probably be at the very back of the room surrounded with protective spells and enchantments.

Then Saber put her hands on her hips and smiled. "Now then, shall we proceed to the next location?"

"Wait, you want to explore this entire school?!" Shirou asked, shocked.

"Well, of course. We have to familiarize ourselves with this place, after all. You never know when it may be turned into a battlefield." Harry said. "The number one reason why people lose wars is because of a lack of information."

Speaking of which, he still had to learn about this world's magic.

"Not to mention how we have to make sure this place is safe." Saber said.

And so they walked, Shirou explaining all the functions and purposes of the rooms. This school was orderly and predictable, unlike how Hogwarts was.

Finally, when the sun was setting casting an orange glow over everything, they prepared to leave. Harry and Saber stood outside the school while Shirou gathered his belongings from his locker.

"This place is a security nightmare," Harry said.

"Agreed."

"Did you see how anybody could walk in and not be stopped? And there were so many windows too. The rooftop entrance wasn't locked either."

"The layout of the school is the same on all floors. The rooms are placed at regular intervals, with windows looking inside. An attacker could stroll past them and ascertain the occupants within with a single glance, making it extremely simple for him to find his target."

"Not to mention how the cheap materials that form this school's walls can be easily destroyed with a single one of Berserker's punch or Lancer's thrust."

"Indeed."

Harry sighed. How could muggles learn at a place like this without worrying about their safety the entire day?

"Although I would imagine the students of Kuzuki are safe. He can probably take out any threat with ease." Saber amended.

"Oh yeah, definitely. I didn't even think it was possible for a human to attain his level of breathing and walking without magical means." Harry thought back on just how efficient Kuzuki was. "Do you think he's a threat to Shirou?"

Saber raised her hand to her chin, deep in thought. "I do not think so. Perhaps he's just a martial artist. Besides, I doubt a school would hire a dangerous individual."

Harry thought back on his days at Hogwarts. "You'd be surprised."

"What?"

"Nothing."

Okay, but seriously though. What was Dumbledore thinking, hiring Snape like that? Sure, he was great at potions and all, but he was also a Death Eater. A Death Eater who spied for Dumbledore, but a Death Eater nonetheless.

He was also directly responsible for the death of Harry's parents. Harry still hasn't forgiven him for that. He never would.

Shirou walked up to them. "I'm ready. Let's go."

XxX

Shirou led the way, with a brown-haired woman pushing a motorcycle and the purple-haired girl from before walking behind him.

Harry and Saber brought up the rear, keeping a distance from the two. They didn't want any awkward Harry supposed that if they continued to follow Shirou like this to his house, there would be inevitable questions on why Harry and Saber would be staying at his compound.

Saber was looking at the city under them. Harry was busy thinking of just how to make a wand.

You can't just slap a magical thing inside wood and expect it to be able to cast spells. Otherwise, anyone can create a wand. No, there's a specific process as to how to make a wand.

And Harry has no idea what that is. This is going to be hard.

He was deep in thought when the purple-haired girl and the brown-haired woman suddenly stopped in front of them. An attack?!

"EHHH?!" They both said.

Oh. Perhaps not then.

The brown-haired woman dropped her motorcycle which landed with a thud. She paid it no mind, instead rushing at Shirou, grabbing his collar, and shaking him back and forth. The purple-haired girl was right behind her.

"She's living at your place? You mean you're shacking up?! With a guy, too? You're having threesomes every night?!" The woman whisper-yelled.

Goddamnit Harry wasn't gay. Wait. What did the woman just say?

"We're not shacking up or having threesomes! Saber and Harry are just staying at my place for a little while."

"Her name is Saber?" It was the purple-haired girl who spoke this time in a soft yet somewhat frantic tone.

"Y-yes. It's a family name." Shirou said. "I'd appreciate it if you could be friends with her, actually."

"O-oh." She said, looking down. Then her vigor returned and she turned to face the brown-haired woman.

"Fujimura-sensei, will you be giving her your blessings to stay at his house?"

Wait wait wait what about Harry? Why was she only concerned about Saber and not Harry? Hold on. Now that Shirou has made it clear there's no romantic involvement between the three, the only reason why the girl would still be concerned is if she thought them to be a threat to Shirou.

Harry didn't blame her. Two foreign strangers suddenly staying at a friend's house? Harry would be worried too.

But she was only concerned about Saber being a threat. Did. . . did she just dismiss Harry as a threat?

. . . was it because he was short? He may not have been as tall as Shirou, but at least he was taller than Saber.

Just barely.

"Umm," Fujimura said, "As a teacher, I'd say absolutely not. But if they're friends of Kiritsugu. . . then I can't exactly turn them away."

Who is this Kiritsugu? Maybe a member of Shirou's family.

Fujimura walked back to pick up her motorcycle, then walked forward, Shirou and the girl waiting for her decision.

"Sure, why not? Just think of it as a homestay."

Shirou smiled in happiness while the girl looked dismayed. Shirou jogged after Fujimura while the girl stood there, just looking after them. Then she glanced back at Saber and Harry.

Saber and Harry passed the girl, Saber giving a small bow as she did. Harry stopped for a moment, and smiled at her, extending his hand.

"Good evening. My name is Harry Potter. It's a pleasure to meet you." To his delight, the girl only hesitated for a moment before shaking his hand.

"H-hello. My name is Sakura. It's a pleasure to meet you too."

She knew manners. Unlike Ilya or Lancer, she actually returned his greeting. Instantly, Harry's opinion of her shot up a few inches.

His smile widened. Then he went to catch up with Saber.

XxX

Dinner was a silent affair. Nobody talked, and Harry was too busy eating the food to initiate a conversation.

He hadn't had dinner this good since he had left Hogwarts. Even 5-star restaurants didn't have food as good as Shirou's.

There was a salad. Lettuce and cut tomatoes. Thinly sliced onion with expertly diced spring onion and sesame seeds adding flavor. A single piece of lemon was at the very top. Pieces of salmon, perfectly seasoned, and sprigs of parsley adorned the sides of the bowl.

Fried shrimp covered in tempura flakes. When Harry bit down, he could hear an audible crunch. Crispy to perfection.

There was meat, cut into squares resting on a bed of lettuce, with a rich-scented sauce on top. It was juicy and filled with flavor.

Another dish, the classic meat-potato-carrot combination found in many Asian restaurants, lay to the side.

All in all, it was delicious.

They all let out sounds of satisfaction while chewing the food.

"Seriously, Shirou. You're an awesome cook. You can probably be hired right now by any restaurant if you wanted too." Harry complimented, already taking another bite of tempura shrimp.

"Yeah, thanks."

After they were finished, Shirou went into the kitchen to wash the dishes. Harry was going to offer to help. Then he remembered that there were muggles around and he couldn't use magic to clean them. And there was no way he was going to touch dirty dishes with his bare hands.

Magic really spoiled him.

Even then, from what Harry knew of Japanese culture, Shirou probably wouldn't have let him help anyways. Something about being a good host and all that. At least, that was the justification Harry gave himself when he kept silent when Shirou collected the dishes.

The four of them, Fujimura, Sakura, Saber, and Harry, were currently sitting on the purple mats watching the television in the corner.

Well, okay, that wasn't true. Fujimura, Sakura, and Saber were.

Harry was as far away as humanly possible without having to leave the room. Televisions scared him. A lot. Once, when he was little, he might have been able to watch it without any negative effects. Now, however, electronics tended to explode randomly when they were in Harry's presence. Especially the newer ones.

Harry huddled with his arms around his legs, trying to keep his magic from spilling out into the environment and affecting the television.

To their credit, Saber, Fujimura, and Sakura only glanced at him once before dismissing it as a quirk. Harry was glad. He used this time to think about the bigger problems he had.

How should he make a wand? There's a reason why wizard hair isn't used as a core. It's literally dead, even when it's still on the human. Veela hair is alive, but human hair is nothing but a collection of dead cells. It's too weak of a core, perhaps capable of giving three or four spells before burning out.

His blood, on the other hand, cannot be used simply because it would get absorbed by the wood. Try spilling blood onto wood. Most would slide straight off and some would get absorbed. Not to mention the volatile nature of blood. The only substance Harry supposed could be used to contain blood is metal. But that's impossible. Metal is dead, magic is life. It doesn't mix together.

The only thing that could form a wand is wood. Although it isn't the wood that's the problem. It's the core.

Wands worked by having a core that came from a magical creature. Magic is manipulated within the core, shaping and layering the magic.

The reason why you can't layer and shape magic within your own body is because wizards have magical resistance that prevents magic from working that well on them. Their own magic interferes, even if the magic was cast by themselves.

Channeling magic could be done easily enough since you just force your way through the magical resistance. That is why the stronger the magic, the more they can pump to their muscles and sensory organs, leading them to be stronger.

But anything more detailed than that, like layering and shaping, becomes much more complicated to do since you can't just force your way through it. It's like drawing a picture with magnetic sand while there's a huge magnet nearby. Any attempts of advanced magic becomes extremely hard to do.

A wizard's magical resistance also protects the wizard from external magic. For example, if you cast a summoning charm on a wizard's heart, you have to overcome both the physical barrier- the rib cage and muscles- as well as the magical resistance of the heart itself, which doesn't want magic performed on it. It just cannot be done, since magical resistance increases exponentially at the areas around the heart and the brain.

This is also the reason as to why only Voldemort was capable of true flight. His body was created from magic, and after the numerous dark rituals he had used to empower himself, he was more magic than flesh. Thus, he was able to manipulate his own magic resistance to a degree that no other wizard can, allowing his magical resistance towards certain spells- like his flight spell- to be lowered while maintaining his normal magical resistance so that he can't be taken out with a single summoning charm.

You can increase your magical resistance by channeling more magic through your body. But decreasing the magical resistance is infinitely harder since the body doesn't want to lower its magical resistance. It's similar to trying to kill yourself by holding your breath- after a certain point, your body would force you to take a breath.

Since wizards can't manipulate magic that well within their own body because of the magical resistance interfering, they must do it externally in a magical core that possesses little to no magical resistance.

They can't just wave around a phoenix feather though, because even after death, the magical resistance still remains. Just like how drakon bones retains their immunity to flames, the remains of magical creatures maintains their magical resistance, because not all of their magic disappears even after they die.

Magical resistance can be lowered to negligible amounts when it's not connected to a body, though, since that specific body part is already "dead," so to speak. The problem is lowering the magical resistance. It can only be done by the wielder of the magic, but the wielder is already disconnected from the magical core.

And that is what the wood is for. Wood breathes life into the core. After all, on Earth, all life is sustained by trees. Without forests to perform photosynthesis and form ecosystems, life would be drastically diminished.

True, other plants can also be used as a container, but nothing is as good as trees.

The wood breathes life into the core, giving it quasi-sentience that allows it to choose its master. And while normally the magical creature can't manipulate their body to lower their magical resistance, a single part of their body no longer attached to them can be manipulated by its own quasi-sentience to lower its magical resistance so that magic can be manipulated freely through it.

Which is why the wand must choose the master. If the wand doesn't like the master, then it lowers the magical resistance only a little bit, making it much more difficult for the wizard to cast spells and manipulate magic. When the wand chooses the wizard, it lowers its own magical resistance to near-zero, becoming a superconductor of magic where magic can be manipulated freely within, and even amplified, since the wood can also draw in magic from the surroundings. It's still a part of nature, thus it's able to channel magic from nature.

On top of the magical core, Harry must also figure out the wandmaking process.

There's something specific wandmakers do in order to fuse the core and the wood together so as to give it enough quasi-sentience to be able to lower its magical resistance. You can't just combine phoenix feathers with wood and expect it to work. Harry just has to figure out what that process is.

And he has no clue. None at all.

He shook out of his thoughts when Shirou called out "Fuji-nee! It's getting late. Would you mind walking Sakura back home?"

No response. Fujimura continued to stare at the television, giving no indication that she had heard.

"Fuji-nee?"

Was Fujimura deaf?

"Hello?" Shirou walked over to Fujimura. "Didn't you hear me, Fujimura-sensei?"

"Sorry, request denied. I won't be able to walk Sakura back home for a while."

"What? Why not?"

Wait. Harry's mind raced.

If you had a friend with a foreign stranger staying around, there are two things you can do to ensure their safety. First, you can mercilessly badger your friend so they turn the stranger away.

Second, you can also stay at your friend's place to protect your friend in case the strangers decide to attack.

Please let Fujimura not be taking the second path-

Fujimura stood up and faced Shirou for the first time in their conversation. "Because starting tonight, I'm going to be staying here too!" She said with a cheerful smile.

"Come again?" Shirou asked.

Oh no. The only way this can become any worse is if Fujimura-

"Do you want to join me, Sakura? I can call your folks, so don't worry."

-is if Fujimura invites Sakura too. Goddamnit. Two muggles right in the death zone of a war.

Sakura looked surprised before a smile appeared on her face. "Y-yes, please do! I can always count on you, Fujimura-sensei."

"What?" Shirou asked, taken aback.

Fujimura raised her hand in the air in victory. "Right! Let's use the tatami mat room in the back! There are plenty of futons. You don't mind, Saber, do you?"

Although since it's clear that they're both close to Shirou, they can also be used as hostages against him. Leverage is an important facet of war, after all. It may be dishonorable, but it's still perfectly acceptable. So having them around so that they can't be taken hostage would be pretty convenient, actually.

On second thought, this isn't such a bad idea.

"That would be cool. It's nice to have more people around." Harry said with a smile.

Wait what was that sound- oh. That's right. He had almost forgotten.

"I know, right?" Fujimura turned over to him with a bright smile. "See, Shirou, your friend gets it."

Then she blinked. "Wait, I never got your name, did I? I know she's called Saber, but you never introduced yourself."

Harry hadn't? Wait, he actually hadn't! He had only introduced himself to Sakura.

What a deplorable lack of manners. Harry can't believe he did this. He could almost feel Dumbledore's disappointed gaze on him.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, I forgot. My name is Harry Potter. It's a pleasure to meet you." He extended his hand once more.

"Oh, how polite! I like this one, Shirou. My name is Taiga Fujimura, though I prefer it if you call me Fujimura." She shook his hand enthusiastically. "The pleasure is all mine."

Harry smiled. Two people in one day that returned his greeting. He considered that an accomplishment.

"What?!" Shirou looked at Harry as if he was betrayed. Harry shrugged. It was the best course of action to take.

Saber, for her part, looked confused for only a moment before Harry mouthed the words "hostages" at her. The confusion on her face was replaced with a look of comprehension and a slight bit of disgust. She really did have the honor of a knight.

"Right. Let's do it." She said, to Sakura and Fujimura's delight.

"What?!"

The sliding door opened and Rin walked in carrying five large bags: one under each arm, one on her back, and she was also holding two.

"Hello Harry, Saber, Shirou. . ." she trailed off as she saw Sakura and Fujimura staring at her confusedly.

"Rin? What are you doing here oh Shirou you disgusting vile creature." Fujimura went from a confused expression into one of murder.

"So it wasn't threesomes, huh? A foursome? A literal foursome? I didn't babysit you every day for you to turn out like this!" She grabbed Shirou's collar and began shaking him back and forth again.

"S-senpai, is this true?" Despite Sakura's soft words, Harry could sense steel in there somewhere. Was she mad?

"No, of course not! Fuji-nee you're wrong!" Shirou yelled.

"Then why is she here too if not to join you three for a foursome?!"

"My house is currently undergoing renovations, and Shirou had offered to let me stay at his place for the time being. I accepted, because the alternative was to lodge at a hotel, and I didn't want to waste money when Shirou had generously offered." Rin said in a serious tone.

Wow. She was really good at lying. She would've been a great member of the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee.

"Oh. When you put it that way, I can't argue against that. Alright, Rin, you're welcome to join us!" Fujimura said, once against cheerful. Harry was impressed. She switched between moods really easily, like a child.

Rin gave a confused smile. "Us?"

"Yeah, me and Sakura are also sleeping over. I hope you don't mind."

"Oh, I don't mind." Rin clearly did mind. While her smile remained on her lips, her eyes told a completely different story. Either Fujimura didn't notice or she didn't care, because she gave no indication that she saw.

Throughout all this, Shirou could only watch helplessly, Fujimura still not relinquishing her grip on his collar.

"Fuji-nee, can you let me down?"

"Oh, sorry!" And she dropped him. Shirou stumbled a bit before catching himself. Whoa. She was strong too.

Shirou could only sigh.

XxX

"You're not sleeping in here with us," Fujimura said with her hands on her hips.

Harry tilted his head. "Why not?"

"Because you're a guy. A male." She said, not backing down.

"And?"

"What do you mean by 'and'? You're a guy and the four of us are girls. Now get out."

"I don't see a problem with that. In fact, shouldn't that make it even better? Sirius had always said that the more girls you slept with, the better."

Sakura, Rin, and Fujimura stared at him with their mouths open. "What?"

Oh no. Was this another case of Harry misinterpreting something that Sirius had said?

"Umm. . . Am I wrong?" Rin's quick nods told him that yes, he was wrong. Very wrong.

"Who is this Sirius, and where is he at?" Fujimura seemed to have regained her wits. Harry could feel anger rolling off of her in waves.

"He was my godfather. He died when I was 17."

"Oh." All the anger seemed to disappear at once. For once, Fujimura didn't seem to know what to say. Instead, it was Sakura who spoke up.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Harry."

"It's fine. I got over it a while ago." He kind of had to, since Voldemort would bring up Sirius every night just to relish the hurt in Harry's eyes. Soon, he became desensitized to it.

Voldemort had managed to succeed where Dumbledore, his friends, and therapy sessions with Snape had failed- though to be fair, therapy sessions with Snape would've never worked.

Sirius probably would've wanted Harry to get over his death, though. He always was too cheerful for his own good. He probably would've said something about how Harry should focus on the ones who are still living, not the ones that are dead.

"I don't care what Sirius had said. He means a different 'slept', probably. You're not sleeping next to us, and that's final." Fujimura said.

Harry shrugged. Alright then. It wasn't as if he needed to anyways.

And what was this different 'slept' anyways? Slept had multiple meanings? Since when? He had to research this later.

Shirou chose this moment to walk next to Harry, hair still a little bit wet from the bath he just had.

"What's going on?" He asked, seeing Harry standing outside of the guest room.

"Harry, go sleep in Shirou's room, alright?" Fujimura ignored Shirou, instead pointing at the direction of Shirou's room and staring intently at Harry. "Good night."

And with that, she shut the door with a little more force than what was necessary.

Shirou looked at Harry. "What was that about?"

"I don't know. They didn't want me sleeping with them."

Shirou turned red once more. "Harry!"

Oh come on. Him too?

Shirou led Harry back to his room, pulling out another futon for Harry. Harry cast yet another cleaning charm on his clothes.

Maintaining white clothes were hard. Not to mention he hadn't taken a shower in a few days now. Cleaning charms made him clean, but it was incomparable to a real shower.

"That's a really useful spell," Shirou said, looking at Harry's clothes which were now positively sparkling.

"It is." The perfect spell for bachelors. It was one of the few useful spells Sirius had taught Harry. Harry still didn't know why Sirius knew a spell that instantly makes the buttons pop off a piece of clothing. He didn't want to know, either.

Harry sat down onto the futon. He closed his eyes. Alright. It's time for business.

"Shirou, hit me in the head as hard as you can."

"What?!" Shirou yelped, backing away from Harry.

"I need to become unconscious quickly, and that's the fastest way. Don't worry, I heal fast." Harry needed to make a wand, and even though Voldemort claimed he had no knowledge of wandmaking, the crafty old bastard had probably thought of a few ways by now.

"B-but" Shirou stuttered. Harry sighed.

"Just think of it as practice for the next time you meet Lancer. Dude, just do it already."

"I-if you asked." And Harry felt a sharp pain on his temple, the blow knocking him down onto the futon. But he didn't go unconscious.

"Seriously? That's it?" Harry asked disbelievingly. Shirou had to be stronger than that. Or was it because of the magic coursing through Harry's body, reinforcing it so that it can take more blows?

Actually, it was probably because of that.

"I hit you as hard as I could." Shirou protested.

Harry sighed once more. "Whatever. I'll just go to sleep the natural way. Good night, Shirou."

"Good night," Shirou said on reflex before blinking. "Hey, why did you want me to knock you unconscious anyways?"

Harry ignored him, instead pulling the blankets over his body and shutting his eyes. It took a few minutes, but darkness soon came to Harry.

XxX

Voldemort was chuckling when Harry appeared in the clearing.

"Oh man. You're even less intelligent than I thought. I can't believe you said that to them. And you're _still_ unaware. You'd think that Dumbledore had at least taught you _some_ things."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "He did. He taught me morals and honor, things you know nothing of."

"Oh please, morals and honor. What do I need for such trivial things? They're just things the weak made up to peer pressure the strong to not trample over them," Voldemort spread his hands out wide. "In the end, only those with power survive in this world. The strong will live, and the weak will die."

"You believe that the strong exists only to abuse the weak. To use them like tools. But you are wrong. The strong exists, not to take advantage of the weak, but to protect them! That is the one thing that Dumbledore has failed to teach you. And that is the thing that will let Good prevail over Evil, every single time."

Voldemort paused. "That was a pretty good comeback. Nice one."

Harry smiled. "Thank you. Now that we're finished with that, tell me how to make a wand."

Once before, Harry may have gotten mad at Voldemort's words and ways of thinking. After hearing his philosophy for the hundredth time, however, Harry gave up on trying to convince Voldemort that he was wrong. There's no point in beating a dead unicorn.

Even so, he would still defend his morality and scruples whenever Voldemort attacked it. It soon devolved into a sort of game to see who made the better argument. So far, the score was 293-280, with Harry being in the lead.

Though that was probably because Harry had access to Dumbledore, who seemed to pull out explanations and arguments from nowhere. To be fair, the aged wizard was almost eight times Harry's age, so it made sense his philosophy would be much more developed.

Voldemort sighed theatrically. "I thought I already told you. I don't know anything about wandcraft."

"But you know many other things that may pertain to wandcraft. So come on, spill. I know you've thought of at least something." Voldemort had to have. This was the genius who had researched everything in his quest to power. There must've been some reference to wandcraft in one of his twisted books.

Voldemort tilted his head. "So, you are admitting that you have no idea how to make a wand? Are you acknowledging that my intelligence is superior to yours?"

Harry snorted. "I'm calling you old. It's only logical that someone nearly 4 times my age would know more than me."

"Oh, that hurt my heart." Voldemort moaned dramatically.

"You don't even have a heart. You didn't have a heart ever since that one ritual you performed on yourself a while back." And what a shock that had been. Harry had thought he had won when he landed the Piercing Curse right on Voldemort's left breast.

Then he saw no gore in the hole, only darkness that quickly stitched itself back together into flesh. That was when Harry realized that Voldemort was more magic than man, that he could no longer be classified as a human.

"Don't anger the person you're trying to get information from," Voldemort cautioned.

"Yeah, well, if I don't get a wand, I'll probably die. And if I die, you die."

"Damn, I'd forgotten about that."

"No you hadn't."

Voldemort grinned. "You're right. I hadn't."

This mother fu-

Teaching robes and glasses appeared on Voldemort again. A blackboard appeared behind Voldemort, floating in the air.

"As you have deduced, getting wood for the wand should be easy enough. Even you should be able to do it with no problems. The problem is the core and the wandmaking process. Your blood and hair is out."

An image of blood and hair with a large red X over them appeared on the blackboard.

Yup. Voldemort was right so far.

Then a cartoonish drawing of Saber appeared on the blackboard. She had Xs for eyes, and her chest was cut open, with a cartoon Harry lifting out her heart.

"You can extract the dragon heartstrings from Saber's body-"

"No. Absolutely not." Doing so would undoubtedly kill her.

"I thought you'd say that. Well, for me to test some of my hypotheses, we have to actually begin making a wand. Go get some wood for now. A lot of it."

"Alright. Anything I should do first?"

Voldemort tapped his chin. "Hmm. . . I would recommend you create a wand with your hair first, to try and figure out the wandmaking process. Use runes, runes that simulate life, on it. Maybe that would work."

And the clearing around them cracked and dissolved into light.

XxX

Harry sat up. Shirou was still awake.

"How long was I out?" Harry asked, startling Shirou.

"About five minutes." Good. He hadn't wasted too much time.

Time was different in the dreamscape. An hour long conversation can take just a single minute in the real world, and a single verbal exchange can take 8 hours. Harry still couldn't figure out how it worked.

"Alright. I'll be right back." Harry stood up stretching, turning away from Shirou as he did so.

"Wait, where are you going?" Shirou asked, startled.

Harry looked back at him. "I need to get some wood."

And he spun in place, Disapparating out.

International Disapparition was hard. When you Disapparate, you anchor yourself to Reality. The problem is getting the anchor to where you want to appear. An anchor to reality is nothing but a combination of thought and magic. You think where you want to appear, and you use magic to get your anchor there.

Getting the anchor to halfway across the world, however, takes a lot of magic. You need to calculate how much magic you need to get there. Using too little results in splinching, too much results in a release of excess magic, magic that broadcasts to everyone around you in a certain radius HEY I'M HERE. Not to mention it's just wasteful.

The hardest part of this is that magic isn't quantifiable. There isn't an official scale. And so, the results of the calculations isn't 26 Merlins of magic. Instead, it's "enough to make you start breathing hard, but not too much so that you start gasping for air" Vague? Yes. But it works.

Harry Apparated in a large forest in Britain. It was where Ollivander had originally procured the holly wood for his wand. Harry walked to the nearest holly tree, half expecting a bowtruckle to pop out. But nothing did.

He snapped off a few good-sized branches from a couple different trees. Then he just took a quick walk around the forest, appreciating the scenery. Japan was composed of cement and steel. Being surrounded by nature again made Harry feel good.

Then he spun in place, Disapparating to Hogwarts.

He had to check to see if there was anything there. There wasn't. He stared at the ruins of a castle and sighed. There was nothing. Just an empty castle ravaged by time, it seemed. Just to make sure, he explored every nook and cranny of the ruins. Nothing.

He Disapparated again to both Hogsmeade and the Leaky Cauldron, careful not to be seen. The former was now a forest, the latter was now a store that sold muggle candy. He carefully explored both, hoping to find some remains of the Wizarding World. Still nothing.

Looks like the Wizarding World truly was gone from this world. He spun again, Disapparating out.

He reappeared in Shirou's room. The lights were out. Had Shirou gone to sleep already? Well, he was gone for a few hours.

Careful not to wake him, Harry silently walked out of the room and into the clearing where Saber and Lancer had fought. This could get explosive. He needed a lot of space.

XxX

"Test one. Holly wood and my blood."

While he didn't think blood would work, he still had to try. He carved a deep hole into the branch, whittling it down so that it would resemble a wand. Then he poured his blood inside, sealing the end with a small piece of wood that fit perfectly. Then, before the wood could absorb the blood, he cast a spell.

"Accio rock!"

It happened in milliseconds. Harry's sixth sense blared as he Faded out of Reality, the wand in his hand exploding, sending shards of wood and blood flying everywhere. Blood really was an extremely volatile ingredient. If Harry didn't have such good reflexes, he would've lost a hand.

Harry Faded back into Reality. "Test one: fail. Observation: wizard blood is too volatile to be used, even when it isn't absorbed by the wood."

Fortunately, it didn't look like anyone had heard the explosion.

XxX

_Twenty minutes later._

"Test two. Holly wood and wizard hair."

He already knew hair wouldn't work that well. There's been multiple documented cases already. Hair is too weak of a core, and would burn up after a few uses. It still worked for a few spells, though, which allowed Harry to try to discover the wandmaking process.

As Harry inserted the hair into the holly, he began channeling vast amounts of magic into the wood in his hands.

Hey, maybe brute force would make the wand fear for itself so much, it would form quasi-sentience.

Just maybe.

After Harry used enough magic to make him start sweating slightly, he raised the wand.

"Accio rock!"

It didn't explode, thankfully. Hair wasn't as volatile a substance as blood. The summoning charm still didn't work, though. The hair still maintained its magical resistance. No quasi-sentience at all.

"Test two: fail. Observation: channeling large amounts of magic while assembling the wand doesn't work. You can't scare a wand into becoming alive."

XxX

_One hour later._

"Test three. Holly wood and wizard hair."

This time, he had carved runes into ground with his magic. Not the runes on Rasputin's sword; they converted all the excess suffering and negative emotions into magic that could be freely manipulated within the sword.

Harry didn't have an excess of suffering and negative emotions. Instead, he used runes of life, vitality, and energy to try and mimic the life-giving effect wood has. Maybe the double life-breathing effect from both the wood and the runes would give it quasi-sentience.

Drawing runes didn't necessarily require a wand to do. You just needed to channel magic while drawing them. It's best to use a wand, though, for the maximum results. Drawing runes with magic worked, though.

He placed the completed wand in the middle of the runic array once he was finished. Then he channeled magic into the runes.

The runes began emitting green and white light before travelling onto the wand, moving as if alive. It was condensing itself so that it would all fit onto the wand.

Soon, the wand was covered with runes. It should work. Harry waited for the warmth and sparks that came when the wand chose the wizard.

Nothing happened. Maybe it was because the hair was so weak, it couldn't shoot out sparks.

"Accio rock!"

The wand didn't explode this time. Instead, the runes gave a slight shudder, quivering a bit, before breaking into shards of light. Then the wand burned up. Harry yelped as he dropped the wand, now nothing but a pile of ashes on the ground.

"Test three: fail. Observation: perhaps runes weren't meant to be used on wands."

"Harry? What are you doing?"

Harry turned to look at Saber. He had heard her approach, but was too concentrated in carving out the runes to even look at her.

He didn't want to redo an hour of work because he forgot where he had left off. There's a reason why runes aren't created during battle very often. They're powerful and useful, but it takes too long and too much concentration to make.

"I'm trying to make a wand. And I'm failing. Oh, did I wake you? I'm sorry."

"It's alright. I wanted to check up on your progress anyway. Are you hurt?"

"The runes didn't burn me."

Saber gestured to the blood on the ground. Right. Harry had almost forgotten. He should probably get rid of the blood, actually. He summoned the blood wandlessly, letting it pool into a sphere, before setting it on fire.

He wasn't going to let anyone near his blood. Not after what Voldemort had done.

"That was from when I had tried to use my blood as a core for the wand. It didn't work out."

"Oh. Is there any way I can help?" Saber offered.

"Not really- wait. You can knock me out." Harry needed to talk to Voldemort again, and every minute he spent trying to fall asleep was a minute wasted. Who knew when an attack was going to come.

"What? You want me to do what now?" Saber looked shocked, not believing what Harry had just asked of her.

"Don't worry. I heal fast. I just need to be unconscious to figure out how to make a wand. It's complicated."

Saber relaxed. A determined look came upon her face. "If you need my help, then I will grant you it."

Then she walked towards Harry and punched him in the head.

Just like before, he wasn't knocked out. It hurt like hell, yes, but he wasn't knocked out.

"Saber, that wasn't hard enough-" He was cut off when Saber whirled around and reverse hook kicked Harry in the chin. The impact caused him to stumble a bit before Saber got in close and punched him in the stomach three times, hard. Harry doubled over in pain. Then Saber looped her hands behind Harry's head and used it as leverage to knee him in the face. Twice.

Harry collapsed, unconscious.

Saber looked down at him, a bit unsure of herself. "Perhaps that was a little too hard? But he did ask me to knock him unconscious." She nodded. "It should be fine."

XxX

Voldemort wasn't chuckling when Harry materialized in the middle of the clearing.

He was outright laughing.

"Oh, I take it back. Don't use Saber's heartstrings to craft your wand. Oh, she managed to do what I'd been dreaming of for years. That was _priceless._"

Harry rubbed his head. "When I told her to knock me unconscious, I didn't think she would do _that_."

"Yes, well, what did you expect?"

Harry sighed. "So, what did you think?"

"Of Saber beating the shit out of you? Hilarious."

"I meant my efforts at creating a wand." Harry said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Oh. That was pitiful. I thought I had already told you blood wouldn't work. I find your lack of faith in me disturbing."

"Did you just quote a muggle movie?" Harry vaguely recalled watching a movie with that quote at Hermione's house. He had been drunk, though, so he couldn't fully remember the details. "Is it the one with the guy who had a choking fetish?"

Voldemort shrugged. "I have no idea what you're talking about. Now then. I believe I know the vital ingredient in the wandmaking process."

Harry eagerly leaned forward. "What is it? Does it involve a ritual? Or maybe I have to combine them at high temperature?" Voldemort had thought of a way after just three tries of Harry creating a wand. Harry was impressed, but not surprised. Voldemort was a genius with decades of experience, after all.

"Wrong. The problem here is that the wand isn't gaining quasi-sentience. We've been complicating things, trying to induce life with runes. But the answer is simpler than that."

"How?"

Voldemort steepled his fingers together. "To make the wand become sentient, you have to treat it like it is sentient. Think with all your might that it is alive, and it will become alive."

What.

"What? I need to think it is sentient for it to become sentient?" That made no sense.

"Exactly. It's how the gods became gods, actually. They were once mortal, wizards capable of magic but mortal nonetheless. But then when everyone, the muggles and even magical creatures, believed that they were gods, they became gods. The belief and thoughts made them into gods."

Harry facepalmed. Of course. It was so obvious.

Thoughts had power. Beliefs had power. Gods became gods because millions of people thought they were gods.

Magic itself worked on belief and thoughts. If you think you can change Reality, then you will change Reality.

So if that was the case for mortals becoming gods, why not wands? If Harry believed with all his might that the wand was sentient, then could it become sentient? There was already magic within the wand, ready to be awakened. Could Harry's thoughts, combined with his magic, be enough to awaken it?

"Go. Create a wand once more, and this time, treat it as if it were alive throughout the entire process. Do it, and you may be able to succeed. Oh, and try calling Dumbledore's phoenix. I don't know how its flaming works. Perhaps it could travel across worlds."

The clearing cracked again, but unlike before, Harry felt hope.

XxX

Harry opened his eyes. Saber was kneeling on her knees. His head was on her lap.

"Saber? What are you doing?"

"Creating a surface for your head to rest on. Muscle cricks and cramps are the enemy. Improper sleeping positions can lead to both."

Right, right. He wasn't on a soft futon this time. He was on the hard ground that was literally as stiff as a rock.

"Oh yeah. Thank you." Harry sat up.

"So, did you find out how to construct a wand?" Saber asked as Harry stretched to remove all the kinks in his body.

"Actually, yes. Yes, I did."

Saber smiled. "Good. I look forward to you having access to your full arsenal of spells."

Before Harry tested the sentience theory, however, Harry should try to summon Fawkes first. He hadn't thought of it before, but maybe it could work. Flaming was still a mystery, after all, and there's no reason not to believe that it couldn't travel across dimensions.

And so Harry thought of Fawkes. He thought of his red tail feathers, the way he would trill happily whenever Dumbledore fed him a treat. He thought of his first meeting with Fawkes, when Fawkes had leaned into Harry's hand. He thought of the horror he felt when his blood was tainted by the demons and Fawkes couldn't stand to be near him for a while.

He thought of the many times Fawkes had intercepted a spell with his own body to save Harry. He thought of the many times Fawkes flamed Harry out of the way of a spell that would've killed him. He thought of the countless times he had been healed by Fawkes's tears.

He thought of his resurrection in the Final Battle. The ritual used, powered by Fawkes's tears.

Fawkes had helped him so much over the years. Maybe, just maybe, Fawks can help him once again.

Harry reached deep into the fabrics of space and time, and _pulled_ with all of his magic.

"Fawkes!"

Nothing happened.

Oh well. It was a long shot anyway. It looks like even phoenixes can't travel across worlds.

Harry picked up another branch from the pile of holly wood. This time, instead of roughly grabbing it like he did before, he handled it with great care and gentleness. Treat it like a sentient being. Awaken the life that it wants to have.

"Hey. You know, I once had a wand made out of you from back home. It was my first and only wand. I loved it. It saw me through so many battles, and saved my life too many times than I can count." At first, Harry felt stupid, talking to an inanimate object like that. He could sense Saber staring at him. But then he imagined that he was talking to his own familiar holly wand. And that helped. A lot.

"I never did thank it before. I didn't get a chance to. It was my friend. It was my comrade."

Blades of wind covered Harry's hands. "I'm sorry. This might hurt." Harry slowly whittled down the branch until it was around the same length and width of Harry's own wand. "I was five years old when I first received my holly wand. I couldn't even do a simple levitation charm. I remember going to bed in agony every night because my body couldn't handle the strain of magic coursing through it."

Harry took a strand of his white hair and inserted it into a small hole in the wand, sealing it behind.

"Thankfully, I'm a lot better at magic now. But I still need a wand. . . I still need you to help me. I have people to protect. Can you help me protect them?"

Harry swore he felt the wand twitch a bit.

"There are people out there that want to kill me. They want to kill Saber over there. There is evil out there. Evil that wishes to cause pain and destruction wherever they go.

"And I need to stop that. It's going to be hard. It's going to be dangerous. But I have an obligation, I have a duty to protect everyone. It's going to be a long and hard journey. I may lose my temper now and then. But my old wand has always helped me remember myself. Helped me remain on the correct path. I know it's a lot to ask, and I know you aren't my old wand.

"But can you be my partner?"

A moment. Two. Then Harry gasped. Warmth traveled up his arm as golden-red sparks shot out of the wand. It wasn't as strong as before, due to its weak core, but it worked.

A working wand. A wand that has chosen Harry as its master. Harry had a wand now. It wasn't perfect. Harry could get perhaps 3 or 4 spells out of it before it burned out. But it was still a wand.

Harry smiled.

"Did it work?" Saber asked.

"Oh yeah. It did. I can only use maybe three or four spells before it burns up, though. So I can only cast magic with it in cases of emergency."

But that was still way better than before.

Harry can't believe that worked. Oh well. Magic has done stranger things before.

Saber smiled. "I'm glad."

Harry twirled his wand in his hands before pocketing it in his robes. He wandlessly overturned the earth to hide the wood shards and such.

"I'm going to go to sleep. You should too, Saber. Good night."

"Good night."

XxX

"I can't believe that worked." Voldemort paced around the clearing, elation evident on his inhuman features. "I surprise even myself sometimes with my genius."

Goddamnit. With this, Voldemort was going to grow even more smug than before. And he was already unbearable.

Although Harry did owe it to Voldemort. It would've taken him a lot longer for him to discover how to make a wand.

"That explains why Ollivander knew every wand he made too, even though he's made hundreds of thousands in his lifetime." Voldemort continued. "It wasn't because he was half-human, like I thought he was, though he certainly isn't fully human. It's because he thinks that every wand is a being, a sentient being. After all, remembering 'people' is way easier than remembering 'things.'"

Harry had met Ollivander twice before, once when he first received his wand, and another during the Weighing of Wands for the Triwizard Tournament. Both times, the old man had been creepy as hell.

"I mean, I had pulled out the "think and it will become alive" bullshit out of nowhere. It was meant to just make you look stupid. But it actually worked!"

Wait, what?

"You mean all of that was just you screwing me over like usual?" Harry could only stare at Voldemort incredulously.

Voldemort snorted. "Of course."

"Wait, what about your explanation about gods being gods because people thought they were gods?"

Once again, Voldemort gave Harry a stare that emphasized his stupidity.

"The gods became gods because they were literally worshipped as gods. Sacrifices, prayers, thoughts and beliefs of an unimaginable magnitude were required for them to ascend to beings above mortals. Just a single person believing they were gods isn't enough. Thankfully, it looked liked a single person believing a wand could be alive is enough to give it some sentience. That, and your prior knowledge that wands could become alive."

Oh. Oh, Harry felt really stupid. He quickly changed the topic. Looking at Voldemort's smug face hurt him a lot.

"Anyways, now that I have a wand, I should be able to hold my own against Berserker. At least for a little while before my wand burns up."

Voldemort nodded. "Right. A Killing Curse should be able to kill Berserker in one blow. Don't hesitate to use it. Heracles died thousands of years ago. This Berserker is nothing but a reanimation filled with madness and anger."

Harry crossed his arms. Using the Killing Curse never felt good, but if he had to use it, he would. "Speaking of which, do you have a theory as to how they were resurrected? They're solid, they can think logically with the exception of Berserker, and they can use magic. Inferi can't do that."

Voldemort narrowed his eyes. "I wish I knew. No magic that I know can do such a feat- except for that time you were resurrected in our Final Battle. I still call bullshit on that, by the way."

Harry shrugged. "Says the guy who could regenerate after being cut in half at the waist."

"Touche. Anyway, now that we have the wand problem partially solved, I need to teach you some stuff." Teaching robes and glasses once again materialized on Voldemort. This time, it was made out of leather though. For some strange reason.

"Now then. When a man is in love with a woman-" Oh hell no.

"If you're doing what I think you're doing, then I'm going to have to tell you to stop right now." Harry growled out.

"Hush. I'm doing you a favor. When a man is in love with a woman or the man loves the woman but the woman is only using him for his money or the woman is in love with the man but the man is only using her for her body or they both hate each other but stick together anyways for some unknown reason-"

"Oh gods no. Please. Stop. I don't want to hear this." Harry put his head in his hands, willing himself to wake up.

"Or if the woman loves the man but the man doesn't love the woman so the woman uses a love potion on the man then _stops using the love potion because she's an idiot_" Voldemort's eyes flashed with anger. "Well, you get the idea. Basically, when any of the above scenarios happen, it normally results in sex."

Harry groaned. This had to violate some law of Reality. A Dark Lord was telling him about sex.

"Now see, sex can be referred to in a number of ways. Boink, bang, screw, lay, and shag are terms that can be used. The muggles have a particularly crass word that I refuse to use, but I'm sure you know what I'm talking about."

"Sirius already told me all of this," Harry moaned, wishing that he would just _wake up_.

"Clearly, he didn't tell you everything. For example, you can also refer to sex as having 'slept with' someone."

Harry's blood froze. The wind in the clearing stopped as the temperature literally dropped 30 degrees.

"What did you just say?" His voice was barely a whisper. Disbelieving, hoping that Voldemort was lying.

Voldemort utterly crushed that hope with his next words. "When they said you had 'slept with Saber,' they meant that you had banged her. Shagged her. Screwed her." He smirked. "How on earth didn't Sirius teach you that?"

Harry staggered back. "You mean. . . when Sirius said to 'sleep with as many women as possible. . .'"

Voldemort nodded. "He meant to bang as many women as possible. Not to actually sleep next to them. I don't know if he didn't tell you the true meaning of 'sleep with' on purpose or because he forgot."

Harry shook his head. "Sirius didn't forget. There's no way he could have forgotten. Oh, that bastard. He knew, didn't he?! He knew that this would happen someday. I just got pranked by a dead man."

Voldemort snickered. "Yes, well, thankfully Saber seems to be just as unaware as you are."

Oh gods. If Saber found out. . . wait. She can't possibly blame him. Right? Right? Whatever. He'll just pretend to not have known anything.

"I can't deal with this right now. I won't deal with this right now."

Voldemort chuckled. Then his expression shifted. "Oh, by the way. You need to learn the differences between their magecraft and our magic. From what it seems so far, it appears that our magic is superior to theirs. However, given that we've only seen a few examples, it's not enough to draw a definite conclusion. Ask Rin what magecraft can do."

That's right. Harry repressed the _unholy thoughts_ and became serious again. He didn't want to be surprised on the battlefield.

"Right."

Voldemort hesitated for just a moment before speaking again. "Also, on the slight chance the Killing Curse doesn't work. . . let me teach you a spell that will."

Harry's gaze sharpened. Voldemort never taught him new spells or curses. Never. This was new. Was Voldemort more shaken by the whole situation than he seemed?

Voldemort held up his hand. A wand appeared in it. Yew. Phoenix feather.

"Observe the wand motions." And Voldemort went through about 80 of them slowly, giving Harry ample time to memorize them all. "Got it?"

"Yeah."

"Alright. These wand motions are used to compress Fiendfyre into a single spell."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, slightly fearful of the answer. Fiendfyre was an incredibly destructive spell, and tampering with it normally resulted in death.

"Look." And Voldemort's wand blurred before sending out a single orange-red spell. When it hit the trees, it burst open into the snarling image of a snake made of flames. Voldemort casually waved his hand, and the flames went out.

Harry was speechless. Typically, Fiendfyre came out directly from the wand as flames. Normally, this would not be a problem, but with such a weak core of wizard hair, the wand would likely burn up before the Fiendfyre could be fully manifested.

The dark flames are just that powerful and destructive.

With the Fiendfyre compressed into a spell, however, the wand could survive casting the spell. Voldemort just single-handedly created a way for Harry to be able to cast Fiendfyre with his weak wand.

"That's amazing," Harry breathed. At times like this, Harry wondered just how he had managed to win against Voldemort. If it wasn't for his Fading, Harry would've been dead numerous times over.

"I know." Voldemort said smugly. "I made it, after all. Anyways, Fiendfyre should be able to burn Berserker. In fact, this is also a direct counter to his regeneration, because whenever Berserker regenerates, the Fiendfyre would incinerate him again."

"Thank you," Harry said. And this time, he was actually sincere about it.

Voldemort spread his hands. "What can I say? I'm a generous Dark Lord. Now go practice this spell."

And Harry did, running through the wand motions over and over again until the clearing cracked and dissolved into light.

XxX

That morning, Harry had his first shower since before he left to go to Machu Picchu. He let out a sigh of contentment. Cleaning charms were _nothing_ compared to the warm waters of a real shower.

After he dried himself off with a quick warming charm, he quickly dressed and left the bathroom, walking down to the kitchen/living room.

Saber, Rin, Sakura, and Shirou were already up. Sakura was busy cooking in the kitchen. Harry briefly wondered if he should be worried that Fujimura was gone, but decided that she probably left early because she was a teacher. Nobody else was concerned, so it should be fine.

He knelt down next to Rin on the purple mat.

"Good morning," Harry said.

Saber and Shirou returned with their own greetings. Rin just looked at him with a half-dead expression. Harry felt a pang of concern. Was she alright?

"It's too early for this. . ." Rin put her head in her arms. Oh. Not a morning person, then. Harry nodded. Ron was much the same. Harry supposed he might have been too, if Dumbledore hadn't dragged him awake at 6 am every morning since he was eight years old.

"Any new information since yesterday?" Harry asked as he leaned back on his arms.

Rin grew serious, but still had traces of exhaustion on her features. "Yeah. The gas leaks around the city were no accidents. It was caused by a witch's ointment. A poison that allowed her to steal the mortals' life force." Her hands balled into a fist. "I can't believe she involved outsiders in this."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Stolen life force? She used the life energy of humans as a source of magic?"

Rin nodded. "The flow was towards the Ryudou Temple. But this involved some pretty potent magic. I can't imagine Rider or Assassin being able to do this. Which means it must've been done by Caster."

Harry looked down at himself. "Which means I'm not Caster, then."

"The evidence points to that. You're probably Assassin. Your teleportation certainly lets you fit the class. On top of that, we made a mistake during our fight with Berserker. With Caster having spread such a wide net, she must've observed our battle." Rin gritted her teeth. "And now she knows our abilities, but we know nothing of her."

Harry smiled. "Don't worry. She doesn't know _all_ of our abilities. I made a wand last night."

Rin straightened immediately, all signs of exhaustion gone. "Really? Can I see? Can you do some magic with it?"

Shirou also leaned forward, an eager expression on his face. Saber's eyes focused on Harry, though she didn't say anything.

Harry laughed as he handed her his wand. "I can't do any magic with it, though. The core is too weak. I can only use about 3 or 4 spells before it burns up. Hopefully, that should be enough."

Rin inspected the wand from every angle. "Wow. This is nothing like a Magic Crest." She passed it back to Harry. "3 or 4 spells, you say?"

Harry nodded. "It depends on the power of the spell."

Shirou frowned. "Can't you just make more than one wand?"

Harry stared at him. "If I did that, I would hurt this wand's feelings. I can't just replace it like that."

The wand seemed to pulsate in agreement.

"You're talking as if it's alive." Saber observed.

"Technically, it is. The wand chooses its master, after all." And now he's quoting Ollivander. At least he doesn't have a creepy stare on his face. "In any case, we should stand a chance against Berserker now."

Saber nodded. "I go about even with Berserker by myself. Together, victory should be within our reach. However, be careful. We still don't know the full range of his Noble Phantasm yet."

"Of course." Harry drummed the table with his fingers. "Say, Rin, can you give me a more in-depth explanation of magecraft? My magic and your own are different. They're almost the same, but not quite."

Rin blinked. "Wow, that's right. You're from a different world. It makes sense for you to have different magic." She clasped her wrist with her hand.

"Magecraft is the artificial reenactment of Mystery. It's achieving what is possible with science through supernatural means. We, as mages, draw in mana from our surroundings, convert it into prana, which is usable magical energy through our Magic Circuits, and focus it on ourselves to change the world around us. We can also convert Od, which is magical energy found in living beings, into Prana. Once we run out of Od, our Magic Circuits replenish it.

"The amount of mana we can take in depends on our Magic Circuits. Some are born with few, some are born with many. Mages typically start a spell with their Od, then keeps it going with mana. An exception to this is Reinforcement, which only uses Od."

Harry closed his eyes, trying to take it all in. "Okay, continue."

"The only limit to magecraft is the laws of the universe. If science cannot accomplish it, either now or in the future, then neither can magecraft. That is what we call Magic."

"I see. And as for the specific spells magecraft can do. . ."

Rin looked at Sakura, who was still cooking breakfast, before discreetly rolling up her left sleeve. "It depends on the mage as well as their Magic Crest. Different families pass down their own Magic Crests which contain the spells that the family has discovered."

Harry nodded. "Which is to say there isn't a large library of spells that mages can go to and learn from."

Rin looked scandalized. "Of course not! Information on magecraft is a closely guarded secret. You wouldn't just freely share spells around."

That seems incredibly. . . Actually, Harry couldn't even complain. Because wasn't that exactly what Dumbledore and Harry did? Discover or rediscover spells, then hide them away from the public for the Greater Good?

Even purebloods had their own secret libraries of their family spells. Of course, most tended to be Dark Magic, which is why it's kept secret, but still.

"Right. Do the limits of magecraft apply to you too?" Harry asked Saber.

She nodded. "Yes. Servants have their own Od and Mana, and we also use magecraft. Although I cannot draw mana from my surroundings. My specific skill is called Mana Burst. I infuse my body or weapon with magical energy and then instantly expel it, causing a drastic increase in performance."

Harry nodded. That's similar to what he did by channeling magic through his own body. Although he doesn't have to consciously expel magic or anything; it's all passively done by his magic.

"And what is Reinforcement?"

Shirou spoke up. "Oh, I can do that. Well, I've been practicing it every night. It's how I managed to survive against Lancer."

Rin nodded. "It involves filling the openings within a target with magical energy, letting it become better. A knife would become sharper, food would be more nourishing, and if you Reinforce a body, it becomes stronger, faster, and more durable."

That sounds incredibly vague. What if you Reinforce a pen? Would it become more durable? Would the ink darken? There are multiple ways to use an object, after all. Would it reinforce every aspect of it? Or only the primary purpose? And in that case, who decides the primary purpose?

Wait. "You can. . . make food more nourishing? Tell me, can you create food?"

Rin blinked. "You mean, out of thin air? No, that's a violation of the Law of Conservation of Mass."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. If they managed to violate the Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration, then Harry might have no option but to worship them as superior beings.

He still didn't have a reason as to why you can't conjure up food.

"Yes, well, there are also unique types of magecraft. For example, my family, the Tohsakas, specialize in Jewel Magic, where we store magical energy in jewels for later use."

That was similar to runes, actually.

"I understand." The weird thing is, Harry truly did. While magecraft was different from his magic, it was still pretty similar.

"So, spill. Tell us about your magic," Rin demanded. Oh no. The hungry look was back in her eyes.

"Well. . . umm, we use wands, for one. We manipulate our magic within our wands since it's easier. And a wand can cast any spell, provided it's strong enough to withstand the magic. I'm not sure about this Magic Circuits stuff. Magic flows through our entire body, though mainly blood, and there aren't any specific organs that channel magic."

"Oh, that's surprising. How do you convert mana into prana then?"

"We don't," Harry simply said. "Most of the time, we use our own internal magic that's generated by our thoughts and emotions. Magic from our surroundings is drawn into our wands through the wooden shell, which can be used to amplify our own magic. On top of that, the magical core of the wand allows us to manipulate magic without any magical resistance getting in the way, allowing for much greater control. There are also other sources of magic, but those are the main ones that I use."

Suffering, human sacrifices, beliefs, and prayers can all generate magic. Harry doesn't have any access to them, however.

Rin drew back. "Does that mean you have an unlimited amount of magical energy? Since your body doesn't have to convert Od and Mana into Prana?"

Harry nodded. "I don't think it's possible for me to run out of magical energy. The only limiting reactant is my body and mind. My magic itself is unlimited."

Rin paled. "That's. . ."

Harry shrugged. "I can cast spells all day, and the only thing that will stop me is the exhaustion of both my body and mind. As long as I'm alive and have thoughts and emotions, then I will never run out of magic."

Emotions were great sources of power. So were thoughts.

"That's insane." Rin whispered.

"I mean, I can still become unconscious from casting too many spells." Harry defended. His magic wasn't that overpowered. Right?

"Anyways, we use a combination of wand motions and incantations to cast magic. The wand motions help us manipulate the magic within our wands. And the incantations. . . they're what makes wizards truly great.

"There are only a few types of spells that do not require incantations, and they're the simplest spells. The rest rely on incantations to cast. Incantations are words inside a magical language that can 'call' upon a specific effect to happen.

"For example, the summoning charm can be used by saying 'Accio.' It works because so many wizards before you have also said 'Accio' when using the summoning charm, 'Accio' stops being a word and instead an activation for a specific magical effect- in this case, the summoning of something.

"It's like building a language, a language which all magical beings have access to. When you make a normal language, you give meaning to words. 'Music' in itself is nothing but a collection of syllables. When you give meaning to it in a language, however, it summons an image, a thought, an emotion in your mind. Incantations are similar. You define a word, give it a magical meaning, so that it could 'call' on a specific set of actions to be performed by magic."

It's this reason as to why you can say the incantation of a spell you know nothing about and it works as intended. There is already an effect linked to the incantation that will be activated when saying the incantation.

Rin, Saber, and Shirou were completely engrossed in his explanation.

"Thankfully, new spells can still be made, by accessing the normal human language and adding a magical meaning to that word. Latin is the primary language used, simply because it was so prevalent back in the day. And it was kept around because of the sheer amount of associations to it."

Harry leaned back again. "That's about it."

"That's insane," Rin repeated, this time with much more awe in her words. "When we say incantations, it's to self-hypnotize ourselves so that we can control our Magic Circuits to spellcast. And incantations differ from mage to mage. But your magic. . . the incantations are all the same and they all lead to a specific magical phenomenon to occur? And anyone can do it?"

Harry thought about it. "Yup, as long as you learn each individual spell's incantation and its accompanying wand motions. Though I'm not sure if you can do it, since we have different magics."

"Breakfast is ready," Sakura called from the kitchen. They all jumped, not expecting her voice. Well, except for Saber, who was calm as always.

Sakura set down fish, miso soup, carrots-and-potatoes, and cornbread. Harry chewed slowly. While it's not as good as Shirou's, it's still leagues above anything Harry can cook. He swallowed.

"This is really good, Sakura."

She smiled at him. "Thank you, Harry."

Shirou frowned. "Hey, where's Fuji-nee?"

"She got an urgent errand from Kuzuki-sensei." Sakura replied in the same soft tone of hers.

"What urgent errand?" Shirou asked.

"I don't know. All she said was, 'I have to finish this errand Kuzuki-sensei asked me to do by tonight or else. So, Sakura, Saber, Rin, try to get along, okay?' Then she left without going into any details."

Shirou sighed. "Come on. She's the one that suggested you all stay over, then she leaves."

Sakura smiled. "It's alright. It gave me a chance to talk with Rin and Saber about this and that."

Saber set down her bowl and smiled. "Yes, Sakura and I have come to an understanding."

Rin also smiled. It was a devious smile. "It was great. I learned _so_ much about you, Shirou."

Shirou looked like he was caught between smiling because Sakura and Saber were getting along and grimacing because Rin looked like she knew things that he did not want her to know.

Harry chuckled. Watching Shirou get tormented by Rin was pretty funny.

XxX

"Come on. It's going to be fine at school. There will be lots of people around." Shirou protested, Saber and Harry following him.

Sakura and Rin had already gone on ahead.

"Besides, didn't you already say it was safe yesterday?" Shirou continued, putting on his shoes.

"Just because it was safe yesterday doesn't mean that it would be safe today." Harry cautioned. "Maintaining constant vigilance is a must."

"Indeed. I cannot let you go off on your own like that. Harry and I cannot accompany you since we cannot go into Spirit Form. And there is very little you can do against a Servant, or even a properly trained magus." Saber lectured with her hands on her hips.

"Come on, guys. If that's your logic, then I'm not going to be able to go anywhere. It'll be fine. Besides, Saber, you need to conserve your mana, so get some rest." Harry sighed. It looked like Shirou wasn't going to be changing his mind.

Saber also sighed next to him. Clearly, she understood the futility of the situation as well. "Very well, then. If that is your command, then I have to obey, Master." Although her tone didn't change, it was clear to Harry that she was irritated. She wouldn't have called Shirou "Master" if she wasn't.

Shirou seemed to not have picked up on it.

"Wait. If there is an emergency, I need you to smash this rock onto the ground." Harry handed Shirou a rock covered with runes on it. It was a really basic alert rune that could be inscribed within minutes.

"I'll get notified when you do, and I can Apparate by your side directly."

"And in case that rock fails or you are unable to smash it," Saber interjected, "Use a Command Seal to summon me there directly. If I get summoned, then Harry will know to teleport to you as well."

"Alright then," Shirou waved good-bye at them. "I'll see you later." And he shut the sliding door behind him.

Saber looked at Harry.

"I'll go rest, then. Conserving my mana is my highest priority," She said, before walking back towards the guest rooms.

Harry blinked. It looks like he had a whole day ahead of him with nothing to do. Nothing to do but to plan.

He stared contemplatively at Saber's back. Perhaps he can figure out a way to fix her lack of mana?

* * *

**Alright. I hope that I was correct in my explanation of magecraft. Though I had probably botched something up. **

**Many thanks to the reviewers who pointed out my Magic Crest explanation was flawed. I had already changed that.**

**You know the cliche of "magic is intent so no incantation is needed?" I was going to use that. Then I remembered that one scene when Harry had used Levicorpus without knowing what it did. There was no intent there. And as such, it's clear that incantations are necessary to cast most spells. **

**So my interpretation is this. Incantations are like pre-defined functions. When you call on the function, it performs a preset code, or magic, in this case. They are defined by the collective group of wizards who uses that language.**

**Harry's magic and Fate's magic is different. It has to be. Each has its own origins and characteristics. Also, only Fate's earth has Gaia, cuz it was attacked. It didn't happen in Harry's world.**

**Wands must have some sentience for it to choose a wizard. Even the wiki describes it as having quasi-sentience. It just never said how it attained sentience.**

**The gods in Fate and the gods in the Wizarding World have different origins. Specifically, Harry's gods are weaker than Fate's, because Fate gods are literal manifestations of nature.**

**Wizards are only limited by their body and mind when casting magic. There's no sign of 'magical exhaustion' anywhere in the 7 books, only normal exhaustion leading to an inability to cast magic.**

**As for the mana transfer. . . there are like three different ways to do it. So I'm just going to make it so that all of them work in this world. **

**And I think that's it. I read through all your reviews, and I'm still undecided on pairings. So I guess I'll write normally, and just let it come naturally.**

**Thank you all for reading, and please review :)**

**euphoric**


	4. Preparation

Harry Potter was bored. And that scared the ever living hell out of him, because whenever he got bored, something terrible inevitably happens.

Saber was currently sleeping- _repress repress repress. _Saber was currently resting. Harry was stuck trying to find out a way to replenish her mana. He really couldn't think of any, though.

Runes might work. They can definitely draw in magic from the surroundings. The only problem is integrating them into Saber's Magic Circuits. From the information Rin had given him, it appears that the mages of this world need to convert mana into prana for them to be able to use it.

Harry has no idea how to integrate runes into Magic Circuits, however, so he probably has to create a brand new runic array without any pre-existing models for reference. To him, Magic Circuits are essentially a brand new organ. Designing a runic array to be integrated into Magic Circuits would be hard. It can take months and even years to complete. Harry didn't have years. So runes are out.

Other than that, Harry can't really think of a way to supply magic to Saber. Generating magic for spells and rituals is simple. But refining that magic into something that Saber can use is much more difficult. The main problem is that she may not be able to manipulate the magic generated, and Harry doesn't know if Magic Circuits can refine all types of magic, or only natural magic.

With nothing to solve the problem and nothing to do, Harry was left to just sitting down and absently playing around with his magic while scanning his surroundings because he knew that Reality found it a personal offense whenever he was bored and would rectify it as soon as possible.

His fears were confirmed. A knock on the compound door. A single knock. Clearly, this was a person who wasn't used to being kept waiting around. Either an extremely spoiled individual, or an extremely powerful one.

With his luck, he already knew which one it would be.

He stood up with trepidation, his wand already spinning in his hand. It seemed almost excited to be used for the first time.

Saber was already in front of the door when he arrived. Her sword was in her hand, and her armor was materialized.

"A Servant is out there," She warned. "Prepare yourself."

Harry's face hardened. Of course it was a Servant. He wandlessly opened the door, already prepared to Disapparate him and Saber away at the first sign of attack.

It was a woman. She was beautiful, almost inhumanly so. She was wearing a hooded cloak with the hood pulled down. She had purple hair and her ears were pointed, almost like an elf's. Danger radiated off of her in waves.

She smiled. "Good morning. I am Caster." She gave a small bow.

No immediate attacks? Harry reached out with his magic, all of his senses on high alert. No hidden attacks either. Perhaps she wasn't here to fight. Actually. . . he probed a little deeper with his magic. She was just a magical construct. A solid illusion.

He was impressed. Solid illusions were extremely advanced magic. She was good.

Harry smiled at her. "Good morning. My name is Harry Potter. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Hey, if she approached them peacefully with a solid illusion, then there was no reason for him not to be polite. Then he remembered what Caster had done, and his smile dimmed a bit.

Caster gestured to the door. "May I come in?"

Saber lowered deeper into her stance, ready to strike. "Why are you here? And what is stopping me from slaying you where you stand?"

Caster scoffed. "Come on, Saber. Do you really think that I'm that stupid to send my real body here against a Saber-class Servant and a Sorcerer? This is nothing more than a solid image of myself."

"She's telling the truth. Attacking her here would be useless." Harry confirmed. "Though I must confess, I can't let you in without knowing what you're here for. You see, this isn't my home, and it would be incredibly rude to destroy it while I'm still a guest."

"I'm here to talk, of course." Caster said, a smile tugging at her lips. "Don't worry. I come under a flag of truce."

Harry tilted his head. "You know, there's a saying from where I come from. 'Flags of truce can be vanished from existence any second.' While I would like to give you the benefit of the doubt, you haven't exactly displayed honorable behavior. You drained the life force of mortals, for one."

Caster's eyes widened dramatically. "Oh, but you see, I had to! You saw how powerful Berserker was. My Master is not a mage. I had no choice but to borrow some energy from this city. It was for survival."

"It was despicable," Saber didn't raise her tone of voice, but the sudden coldness told Harry that she was enraged. "The Holy Grail War is between us Servants and Masters. You had no business in involving the people of this city."

"I didn't kill them, though." Caster responded. "They're all in comas. They'll live, and might even wake someday. You're a Sorcerer, you know how life force works. If I truly was as despicable as you thought, wouldn't I have killed them without a second thought?"

She was correct, Harry realized. She could have gained exponentially more energy if she drained _all _of the life force out of the mortals. The life energy separating life and death is the strongest, and for her to not have taken it meant that she wasn't completely heartless and power-hungry. But at the same time, she still forced innocents into coma. Even if it wasn't death, he couldn't exactly forgive that.

When Caster saw that Saber and Harry weren't convinced, she sighed. "I only want to talk, I promise. I didn't come here to fight. I even have information for you. You're not Assassin, Harry."

That changed everything. If she had any information, Harry had to get it from her. Information was vital in a war, after all.

Saber seemed to have come to the same conclusion, if not slightly more confused. "He's not Assassin? Impossible. He cannot be Rider. You lie."

Caster shook her head, amused. "I know he's not Assassin because _I_ summoned Assassin."

She held up her hand. A red rune was on it. A Command Seal, though for some reason it didn't feel authentic. Harry wasn't sure though, since he has never encountered Command Seals in his studies before.

Saber tensed. "You summoned a Servant _as a Servant?!"_

"I did. I broke the rules." She laughed as if she just told a funny joke. "You can call me a rule breaker, if you wish. Now, can I come in?" She hesitated before she looked down, a hint of weakness showing on her face. "I need help. Please."

Damn.

_Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it._

This wasn't Hogwarts, but the principle still applied. Caster had come peacefully with only the intent to talk. The least Harry could do is to hear her out. That's what Dumbledore would've done.

Harry sighed. "Fine. Come in."

Saber looked at him, shocked. "Harry?"

Harry shrugged. "Might as well hear what she has to say. Besides, it's not as if she's going to be able to harm us. Solid illusions aren't that strong."

Saber narrowed her eyes before relaxing from her stance."Very well. But know this, Caster, if you make any threatening moves, I will not hesitate to slay you."

Caster smiled. "Good. I wouldn't expect you not to."

She walked in, Harry and Saber sliding to the side as she did so. They weren't going to turn their backs on an enemy. Caster only raised her eyebrows a tiny bit when they did so. They followed Caster into the living room. She knelt down, clearly expecting them to do the same.

Harry knelt down across from her. Saber stood, her muscles tense as she prepared for any sudden attacks.

"I'll cut to the chase. Harry Potter, you are not a Servant." Caster said.

"The Command Seals on Shirou's hand says otherwise," Harry countered.

She shook her head. "No, no, no. You don't understand. Just being bound by Command Seals doesn't mean that you're a Servant. All Servants have a class, and you, Harry Potter, do not belong to any class.

"What's more, the Holy Grail only creates seven vessels beforehand for the Holy Grail War. Even if you were summoned, you should have had no body to contain you. And yet, you do have a body. A body that does not need to be sustained with magic from your Master or any other external source."

So this body wasn't created by the Holy Grail? Then where did it come from? How did it form?

Caster leaned forward, her purple locks cascading down over her shoulders. "Tell me, where do you receive your mana from?"

On one hand, revealing information to the enemy goes against all of Harry's instincts. On the other hand, Caster may unwittingly reveal a way for Harry to replenish Saber's mana. Even if she doesn't, the knowledge Caster has may be worth it. It's a risk Harry is willing to take.

Of course, Harry isn't going to reveal the fact that his magic is different from Caster's. Which means. . . he has no choice but to start channeling his inner Voldemort with a hint of Snape on the side.

Harry spread his arms grandiosely, a smirk adorning his lips. "Isn't it obvious? You underestimate my capabilities. My mana supply is unlimited."

Caster drew back, stunned. "What?!"

Harry raised one eyebrow. "Is that really so surprising to you? Do not forget, Caster. I am a Sorcerer. I can perform unimaginable feats and wonders." He hoped he wasn't laying it on too thick.

"Astonishing," Caster breathed. "Yes, having unlimited mana would certainly allow you to function without having to rely on the connection between you and your master. On top of that, it's clear that you can create a brand new body for your soul to reside in."

That. . . wasn't true. Harry had no idea where his body came from. Before he can correct Caster, however, she spoke up again.

"Harry, Saber, allow me to reveal the true purpose of my visit today."

Harry tensed as Saber readied her sword.

"I do not wish to fight in this Holy Grail War. I have no intention of fighting any of you at all." Caster said, her fingers splayed across her heart to show her sincerity.

. . . what? Harry could detect no lie. None at all.

Saber was so shocked, she lowered her sword a little bit. "What do you mean?"

Caster gave a genuine smile. "My wish is already granted. The only thing I want to be able to do is to remain on this planet, even after the completion of the War. And there lies my problem. I have no access to mana after the war is complete. I will be unable to drain any more mana from the residents of this- or any- city, because numerous organizations will no longer overlook it. My Master is incapable of providing me the mana for me to remain."

Caster stared Harry straight in the eyes. "Harry Potter, will you create me a body that will allow me to draw in mana from my surroundings? If you do so, then I will not fight in this war any longer. I will also stop draining the life force of the people in this city- I'll even heal the ones I already drained. "

"Umm. . . I think you misunderstand. I have no idea where my body came from. I thought the Holy Grail was the one to give me it." Harry scratched the back of his head awkwardly.

Caster stilled. "I see. In which case, can you teach me how you attained unlimited mana?"

"I'm sorry, but you have to be born with the ability." Death Eater misinformation suggested that muggleborns stole their magic from wizards, resulting in the wizard becoming a squib.

Harry had laughed his head off when he first heard that. He reasoned that there would be nobody stupid enough to believe nonsense like that.

There were people stupid enough to believe nonsense like that. Harry had lost a little faith in the Wizarding World when he realized that a good number of wizards genuinely thought it to be true.

You are born with magic. There's no way for muggles to be able to manipulate magic. They can use a few select magical objects, but they can't actually use magic, must less steal it.

Caster's face was as serene as before, but Harry got the sense that she was panicking somewhat. "I see. Then, in that case, can you transfer me mana on a regular basis?"

Harry shook his head. "I'm sorry, but I don't quite know how to transfer mana to people. In fact, my mana may actually be incompatible with you. I'm not entirely sure about it though."

"Incompatible? Well, no matter. Do you know how to attain immortality?"

Harry's expression turned to stone. "I do, but all the methods require me doing things that I will not do. Humans aren't meant to be immortal. Do not _ever_ try it. That is my only warning to you. You won't like the results." He left no room for doubt in his tone. He would never share the knowledge of Horcruxes or the Philosopher's Stone or Unicorn's Blood or any of the other methods he knew. Not now. Not ever.

Cheating death never works out in the end. Death is inevitable, and Harry accepts that. He may have been brought back once, but in the end, he has no doubt he will die again- this time, permanently.

Caster's eyes narrowed momentarily when Harry had said "I do," but she didn't comment further on it. She must've sensed that Harry wouldn't be swayed. Good.

"There must be _something_ that you can do. Some miracle that you can achieve. Please. I'll do _anything._" The "anything" was accompanied with her subtly pushing her breasts together with her arms. Sirius had taught Harry enough to know what she meant.

At least, Harry hoped he knew what she meant. If he misinterpreted the action, then he could be in a world of hurt.

"It doesn't matter. I think I can create a way to supply you with mana, but it will take months and perhaps even years."

All the warmth and amiability vanished from Caster. Her gaze became cold. "I understand." She stood up, darkness suddenly surrounding her.

"Wait!" Harry said, trying to salvage the situation. "We can still have a truce until I find a way."

"No, we will not," Saber raised her sword again, poised to rush Caster at a moment's notice. "Until you find a way, Caster will still have to absorb life force to sustain her existence. I will not protect such a person."

Right. For Caster to remain on Earth, she must continually replenish her mana through draining the life force of helpless mortals.

Harry sighed. He really had wanted to avoid making another enemy. He stood up and released his magic. Wind began to blow through the room.

"I'm very sorry, Caster, for being unable to come to an agreement."

"I am too."

Caster raised her hand as if to cast a spell, but Saber was faster. She blurred into motion, thrusting her sword into Caster's heart. Caster's form shimmered for a second before dissolving into light.

"Nice," Harry admired. He still couldn't get over the sheer expertise Saber had over the sword. Every thrust, every slice, every cut was excellent. If only he could actually _see_ the sword. That would be an awesome show.

"Thank you," Saber dematerialized her sword and armor. "At least we now know what Caster looks like."

Harry nodded. "For someone who absorbs the life force of mortals, she's actually really pretty."

Saber looked at him until it became really uncomfortable.

Harry coughed, simultaneously releasing a pulse of magic to scan for any unwelcome spells. "From a purely objective standpoint, of course. She's still an extremely morally dubious person, someone that I would not like to be around with." Saber nodded, satisfied. "On that note, you don't have to worry about her leaving any spells behind. I checked. We're good. Oh, and I'm going to go ward this place."

Saber frowned. "Ward? You mean a Bounded Field?"

Harry considered the terminology. "Probably. A ward is a magical field that covers an area. I'm planning to create a detection system."

"That's good. Having some defenses around here would increase our chances of victory." Saber turned around and began walking back to the guest rooms. "I'll go back to sleep."

Harry watched her go before channeling magic into his fingers. It's time to start warding this place. If there truly was an Assassin out there, Harry didn't want to be caught unaware while showering. He didn't want to be caught unaware anytime, but being surprise-attacked while wet and naked is a profoundly unsavory experience that Harry wanted to avoid at all costs.

XxX

Warding can be done with both spells and runes. Harry personally preferred to do it with spells, but with his current circumstances, he'll have to settle for using runes.

Once Harry had finished the wards, he stepped back and admired his work. Thankfully, Shirou's compound conveniently had a wall for Harry to inscribe runes on. If any spells were shot at the compound, Harry would know. If anyone walked into the compound, unless they were concealed by the most advanced spells, Harry would know.

The wards weren't exactly the strongest Harry had, but for a rush work, it was pretty good, all things considered. It wouldn't be permanent, though. The wards would fade within a few months. Hopefully, that would be enough.

Harry glanced up at the sun. Noon had already passed. He should probably eat something, come to think of it. Fighting on an empty stomach is just asking for trouble. He'll just get some food from the kitchen.

Shirou wouldn't mind, would he? Nah, there's no way.

Saber would probably be hungry as well. He knocked on the guest room door. A habit Hermione had drilled into him. "Saber? Are you awake?"

Silence at first. Then some slight shuffling, as if Saber was getting out from under the blankets, before footsteps could be heard. The sliding door opened, revealing Saber. She looked wide awake even though she must've just woken up.

"Yes? What is it?"

"You wanna go eat lunch? It's past noon already."

Saber nodded. A determined glint appeared into her eyes. "Lunch sounds acceptable. Hunger is the enemy. It wouldn't do to fight on an empty stomach."

Then she walked purposefully towards the kitchen. "Come, let us prepare lunch."

Harry followed Saber into the kitchen, where she was staring intently at the kitchenware.

"Is there a problem?" Harry inquired. She seemed to be troubled somewhat. Saber turned to look at Harry with an almost pleading look in her eyes.

"Do you know how to cook?"

Oh.

Oh crap.

"I don't. I've never had a reason to learn before." This would be a problem. After the previous meals of absolute deliciousness that Shirou cooked, Harry wasn't sure if he could eat anything else without going into withdrawal.

Harry never had to cook for himself before. House elves and restaurants were all he ever needed. But he can't possibly eat out now.

Quite simply, Harry's broke. He has no money to pay. And there's no way he's going to Confuddle mortals over a simple matter like food. Borrowing money from Shirou was out too, since he couldn't exactly Apparate into Shirou's class asking for pocket money.

He could theoretically condense graphite into diamonds and then sell them, but that would take days to arrange.

"Do _you _know how to cook?" Harry asked desperately. This was _King Arthur_ of the legends. Surely, she knew how to cook.

Saber shook her head. "In my time, proper ingredients were hard to come by, with quality cooking equipment being almost nonexistent. So no, I do not know how to cook."

Damn. They stared at each other for a few moments, silently imploring each other to reveal their secret aptitude for cooking.

Saber sighed disappointedly. Then a contemplative glint entered her eyes. "Do you think we're allowed to bring Shirou back home temporarily?"

Harry considered it. "Hmm. . . we have to give a convincing excuse to his teachers and classmates."

Saber thought about it, running through all of the options. "Unlikely. I cannot think of an excuse compelling enough to bring Shirou back home."

"Same."

They both sighed dejectedly. Harry began pulling out fruits and vegetables. It's time to use one of the lessons Sirius had taught him: You can't cook something wrong if you don't actually cook it.

"You wanna just make a salad?" Harry cast a few cleaning charms to get the dirt off, already knowing what the reply would be.

"Yes."

A few cutting charms later and Harry walked towards the table and set down two bowls filled with apples, oranges, carrots, and lettuce. All completely raw. He handed Saber chopsticks and began to dig into his own bowl until rapid chewing noises filled his ears.

Harry watched in fascination as Saber knelt down at the table and began devouring all the food. Once again, he was astonished by the sheer amount that she ate.

Where did she put all the pounds? If Harry ate that much, he'd quickly enter the lands of obesity. To be fair, these were just fruits and vegetables, though, so it's not that fattening. But still.

"We should probably start planning how to synergize with each other," Harry said.

Saber swallowed. "Yes. Your ability to teleport instantaneously would be greatly beneficial to our teamwork." She picked up another carrot and began biting down.

Somehow, even at the rapid pace she ate, not a single morsel of food dropped down or got stuck on her mouth. Harry might even describe her eating style as regal if not for the speed.

"Right. First, let me say right now that I don't think I can be killed by any Servant. I have the ability to Fade out of Reality."

Saber stopped chewing. Then she started again, swallowing before she spoke. Impeccable manners as well. "What do you mean?"

"Observe."

Harry Faded out of Reality, a faint afterimage being left behind. He manipulated his magic to vibrate the air molecules around him to be able to talk.

"Right now, I'm currently in the realm of nonbeing. What you see right now is a remnant of my magic left in Reality."

Saber reached over to touch Harry. Her hand passed straight through.

"Amazing," she breathed. "And how long can you maintain this?"

Harry's image shrugged. "I can do it for about half an hour before I start feeling the aftereffects. Light pain, exhaustion. The longer I stay in nonbeing realm, the worse I deteriorate."

Harry Faded back into Reality. "So if you see me about to die, odds are, I'm not actually about to die. So please don't rush in to save me."

Saber nodded. "Understood. Does this ability come from an item? A scabbard, perhaps?"

Harry frowned. "A scabbard?"

"Never mind." Harry gave Saber a questioning look but didn't push it.

"Anyway, I have multiple support spells that I can use to augment your attacks. Oh, besides Mana Burst, what else can you do?"

"Not much. My entire fighting style is centered around my Mana Burst. I can unleash a devastating attack from Excalibur, but as I've said before, that uses a lot of mana, so I save it for a last resort attack." Saber finished her salad with a contented sigh.

"I also have Invisible Air, which could be considered a Noble Phantasm. It's made up of multiple layers of compressurized wind that refracts light to make my Excalibur invisible. I can unleash it as a powerful wind attack and I can also use it to form a barrier of wind. It can propel me forward as well. It passively amplifies my cutting power and damage of each attack, since the winds are constantly slicing around my sword."

Harry closed his eyes, deep in thought. "I see. For now, I think I'll just get you in and out with Apparition so that you won't be hit by attacks. You be the sword, I be the portable shield. On top of that, I'm pretty sure charms that don't directly affect Berserker do not get canceled out. So if I can raise dirt in his path while simultaneously charming it unbreakable and increasing the air resistance around him a hundredfold. . ."

Saber smiled in amusement. "You're planning to trip Berserker with dirt?"

Harry shrugged. "It might work. He probably won't fall down with those reflexes and flexibility of his, but it should give you a split second advantage as he loses his balance."

Then his gaze sharpened. "Speaking of which, I believe that I can defeat Berserker."

Saber's eyes widened. "Already? Does having a wand really boost your skills that much?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. Wands are awesome. Anyway, here's what we know about Berserker so far. He's fast, agile, skilled, mad, and possesses an ability that allows him to come back from a lethal wound. Now, I'm not exactly sure what that ability is. It could be regeneration, in which Berserker hasn't died yet and his wounds knit back together with magic. Or it could be- and this is less likely but still possible- actual resurrection, in which he 'dies' and then he comes back to life, his body restoring to its prime shape."

"I'm afraid I don't know which one it is, though." Saber thought about it. Then she shook her head. "No, I have no idea. Normally, I wouldn't think someone can stay alive with a hole in his chest, but Heracles is half god, so I cannot say with certainty."

"I thought so. In any case, I have spells to counter both. The first is called the Killing Curse. It. . . umm, well. It kills instantly on contact with flesh."

Saber was silent for a moment. "Seriously?"

"Seriously. Well, okay, there are a few exceptions, but none that should apply here."

If you had strong enough skin, like a dragon's, then the Killing Curse may not be powerful enough to punch through. Which is why dragonhide armor can block a single killing curse. Of course, the hide would disintegrate into pieces after it's been struck by the green spell, but at least the wearer is still alive.

Another exception is if you were protected by a massive amount of blood rituals that utilized one of the most powerful and ancient forces that preceded even the gods.

A mother's love.

Harry doubted Berserker had access to those exceptions. His skin, while magically resistant, seemed to be only a few inches thick- not enough to protect against the Killing Curse. And Harry doubted Berserker's mother knew any blood rituals at all, let alone the one Lily used.

Even Dumbledore didn't know how she did it. Knowledge of the counter to the Killing Curse was lost the night Lily Potter died.

"That seems kind of. . ." Saber searched for the right word. "Unfair."

Harry laughed. "That's a light way of putting it. The Killing Curse was considered an Unforgivable from where I come from. Usage of it was enough to put a normal person into wizard prison for life."

Not Harry though. The Ministry of Magic can't even _touch_ Harry. Literally, since Harry can just Fade away from any Auror that came to detain him. And during the war, they certainly tried.

Still, Harry didn't like using the Killing Curse. Firstly, it's because it was the spell used to kill his parents. Secondly. . . Harry just didn't like killing all that much. He would, if he had to, but if he had the choice to be nonlethal, he would take it.

If he killed, he killed for the Greater Good.

"So are all fights in your world like that? The same spell being tossed everywhere, with the merest contact causing death?" Saber's tone conveyed her disapproval.

"Of course not! See, here's the thing. While _casting_ the Killing Curse is relatively simple, casting a _powerful _one is not."

Saber frowned. "I thought it killed instantaneously on contact with flesh."

"Well, yeah, it does. That's not what I'm talking about when I saw a powerful one, though. The Killing Curse has a low skill floor, as in it's easy to start casting it. Its skill ceiling, however, is _insanely_ high. Most Killing Curses cast by wizards take a relatively long time to cast, uses a lot of magic which gets wasted in the end, and aren't strong enough to even punch through a few inches of wood. The spell speed is also somewhat slower than other simpler spells."

"Which is why wizards don't solely use the Killing Curse in fights," Saber realized.

"Exactly. Other spells can be cast faster, fly through the air faster, and can penetrate or even outright ignore physical obstacles. Not to mention how they use less magic."

Wizards may have unlimited magic, but they certainly do not have unlimited stamina. Casting only Killing Curses in a fight is extremely tiring for the average wizard.

"Only the strongest wizards are able to blur through the wand motions to layer and shape all the magic in a split second so that it explodes out faster than the speed of sound and is able to punch through solid rock and steel."

The Killing Curse requires a lot of magic to cast. Most wizards aren't able to utilize all of the magic through layering, so it's wasted. More powerful wizards can layer and compress that magic around itself to increase the density so it would expand like a spring when cast, resulting in a speed exceeding sound. Not to mention how the increased density would allow for greater penetration power.

Voldemort's Killing Curse was definitely the most powerful Harry has ever seen. It was good enough to be Voldemort's primary spell. It was certainly his favorite.

Harry's Killing Curse wasn't as strong, but it was still good enough to be viable in most combat situations.

"Thankfully, I am one of the few who is close to the skill ceiling." Whereas Voldemort had _set_ the skill ceiling. "While my Killing Curse is not the best, it's still really good. Enough to kill Berserker."

Saber hesitated. "This is Heracles we're talking about here. He is half god. Can your Killing Curse slay gods?"

Harry smiled. "Can it slay gods? Saber, the Killing Curse is the spell that single-handedly propelled wizards to the _top of the food chain_. It's the spell that allowed wizards to fight toe-to-toe against beings from legends. Gods have been recorded surviving the Killing Curse before, yes. But even then, they were in such a weakened state that they couldn't form a physical body for _centuries._"

Gods weren't exactly mortals anymore. As long as they were remembered, as long as they remain somewhat relevant in the modern day, then there will always be a trace of their consciousness in the world. If hit by the Killing Curse, they would be reduced to a state similar to Voldemort when the Killing Curse rebounded- less than alive but not quite dead.

"Berserker will die to the Killing Curse, regardless of whether he's half god or not. And even if his godliness is enough to save him, he'll still be left incapacitated for a very long time. The only way to block the Killing Curse is through physical means. There's only one way to block it magically, but Berserker doesn't have access to that."

Technically there are two ways, counting the brother wand effect, but that's impossible here.

Nobody really knows where the Killing Curse originated. Nobody knows the when either. All anyone knows is its effect. It's truly an overpowered spell, deserving of its title as an Unforgivable.

"However, if he's actually resurrecting, then that becomes a problem. Because even though the Killing Curse will 'kill' Berserker, it won't actually _kill_ him permanently."

Voldemort survived getting hit by the rebounded Killing Curse due to his Horcruxes. Fawkes survived because he's a phoenix and will get reborn from the ashes. Harry survived because of his resurrection in the Final Battle.

The point is, if Berserker has access to a revival ability, then even though the Killing Curse will "kill' him, Berserker might not actually _die_.

People don't always die when they are killed.

"Yes, that does make sense in a way. You mentioned knowing a method to end Berserker even if his ability is resurrection?" Saber asked.

Harry opened his hand and flames burst to life, dancing harmlessly across his palm. Harry manipulated it so that it would form the visage of a phoenix. "Fiendfyre is one of the darkest, most destructive fire that I know. Definitely the most powerful in a combat application. It will burn through nearly anything." It's one of the few things that can destroy the near-indestructible Horcrux, after all.

"Even if Berserker is constantly reviving, the Fiendfyre will continue burning him until his power runs out. Magical resistance can do nothing against Fiendfyre."

"Why do the flames form the image of a phoenix?" Saber wondered.

Harry shrugged. "It depends on the wizard, really. Fiendfyre can take on many different forms. My teacher Dumbledore and I have the form of a phoenix. My greatest enemy's form was a snake. It doesn't matter though; its destructiveness is not affected in the least."

"And is there a way to counter this Fiendfyre?"

"There is, but Berserker shouldn't be able to do any of them." They all required a wand, for one, and Harry was certain Berserker's axe-sword did not qualify.

In the legends, Heracles was many things, but a wizard he was not.

"Anyway, that's my plan for Berserker. I'm going to use the Killing Curse first, and if that doesn't work, then I'll move on to the Fiendfyre." Harry extinguished the fire in his palm.

Saber then narrowed her eyes slightly. "Why are you using the Killing Curse first? From what you've said, Fiendfyre should also be capable of overwhelming Berserker's regeneration and killing him."

Harry smiled. "I'm glad you caught that. Remember how I said that my wand could handle 3 to 4 spells, depending on how powerful the spell was? Well, Fiendfyre is just so destructive that even when it's compressed into a spell, it will still wreak havoc on my weak wand core. One Fiendfyre is equivalent to two Killing Curses, give or take. So I'm going to take a gamble and try to preserve my wand's lifespan by using the Killing Curse first."

"But if it doesn't work, then you're left with just one spell left before your wand burns up." Saber pointed out.

"That's a risk I'm willing to take. It's unlikely for Berserker to actually have a resurrection ability. I don't recall Heracles having one in the legends."

Saber nodded. "What if you miss?"

Harry coughed. He wasn't sure if Saber would approve of his plan. "Well, umm, you see. . . I'm planning to just Apparate right next to him and cast the Killing Curse before he can react."

Saber's posture became frigid. "Is this how all battles are fought by wizards? Teleporting next to your foe before they can react and casting an instant-death spell?"

Oh dear. She didn't approve.

"Of course not. Whenever you Apparate, there will always be a moment of disorientation as you get used to being in a new location. Only the most powerful wizards can speed up their thoughts and reflexes to get over that disorientation quickly enough to react to incoming threats."

There was no point in Apparating somewhere if you were disoriented for even a tenth of a second. Because a spell could be completed within that tenth of a second, and then you'd be dead.

"And you are one of the 'most powerful wizards.'" Saber said.

"Yeah. Not to sound arrogant or anything, but I'm probably one of the best in the world. In my world."

Dumbledore was better, of course. Voldemort had been too, until Harry had killed him.

"Fortunately, I can speed up my thoughts to the degree that the moment of disorientation is almost negligible- and even in the time I am disoriented, my reflexes are good enough to be able to Fade instantly through an attack. So against Berserker, I can definitely just pop next to him, cast the Killing Curse, then Disapparate away."

It worked when Harry employed this strategy against the giants during the war against Voldemort. It just felt. . . _wrong_.

"To be fair, you wouldn't utilize this strategy against a wizard, since they can prepare all sorts of nasty area-of-effect spells and other counterattacks. But against Berserker, who seems to only be able to use his giant sword, I should be fine."

Saber sighed. "While it pains me to say it, I admit your strategies have merit. So, I distract Berserker with melee-range attacks, and you teleport in to surprise him with your Killing Curse?"

"Exactly."

Harry stood up, summoning the empty bowls to his hand and cleaning them before storing them back.

"Harry, are you from Britain?"

Harry turned to Saber, surprised. "I am. Why?"

Saber looked away. "As a citizen of Britain. . . Do. . . do you think I was a good king?"

Harry cocked his head to the side. "I'm not sure how much you two are the same, because of different worlds, but in my world, King Arthur was a legendary British leader that defended Britain from Saxon invaders who perished in a battle against his son, Mordred."

He noticed Saber flinch slightly at the name. A similarity, then.

"Personally, I think King Arthur was the best king Britain could've had at the time. The sheer amount of courage and bravery required to beat back the ferocious Saxons is astronomical. Meeting you is an honor."

Saber whispered something. Harry couldn't quite catch it, but it sounded suspiciously like "but I failed. . ."

Before Harry could question her on it, though, Saber looked back at him, her customary expression back on her face.

"Thou can understandth me then?"

"Yeah," Harry answered automatically before blinking.

Saber had just spoken in English. An archaic form of English, but English nonetheless. A smile spread across Harry's face.

"Wait, I had forgotten! We're British, we can both speak English!" After speaking Japanese for so long, it felt refreshing to speak in English again- and to be understood by someone else.

Saber nodded, reverting back to Japanese. "It is unlikely for the other Servants to be able to understand us. During battle, it's best to communicate in English to keep our enemies unaware."

"Got it. For normal conversation, we should continue to use Japanese though, because words from our respective time periods carry different connotations and denotations."

Not to mention how translating archaic English into modern English every the Saber spoke would be a pain.

"Agreed. I may not understand all of your modern terminology and phrases, and you may not understand mine."

Actually, Harry was currently alone with Saber right now. This was the perfect time to ask her some questions. Some extremely important questions.

"Saber. . . can I ask you something?" Harry began almost hesitantly.

"Hmm?" Saber looked at Harry curiously. "What is it?"

"Umm. . . what was Merlin like?"

In his world, while Merlin was considered a being on the level of gods, his true personality is practically unknown. The Wizarding World knew that he was an extremely powerful wizard, but nobody knows his likes or dislikes. The Merlin in the Wizarding World is a paragon: someone to look up to, someone to strive to be, someone to admire- but in the end, someone that isn't regarded as a human.

Harry knew what being a paragon was like from both firsthand and secondhand experience. Dumbledore's infinite wisdom and patience allowed him to weather the storm of expectations and requests to solve their problems with a calm smile and a twinkle in his eye.

Harry wasn't that good yet. Harry was known as the "Golden Boy," the "Boy-Who-Lived," and so many other names filled with hyphens. From the moment he stepped into Hogwarts, virtually everyone already had a preconceived notion of how Harry should be, how Harry should act, what Harry should like.

Nobody, save for Harry's friends, saw Harry as. . . Harry. They always saw him as something more; someone who's above them but never _with_ them, never talking and laughing and being friends with them. He was nothing more than an ideal to them. Harry hated that.

The point is, being a paragon wasn't exactly good. Well, okay that wasn't exactly correct. Being a paragon was good for everyone except for the paragon himself.

Harry understands that, almost better than anyone. Which is why, now that he has the chance, he needs to know what Merlin was like. It's Harry's way of showing his respect and understanding from one paragon to another.

Besides, Harry has used Merlin's name in conjunction with curses so many times now, the least he can do is have a vague idea of Merlin's character and personality.

"Merlin? Why do you want to know about _Merlin_?" Saber asked. That. . . wasn't exactly the reaction Harry had expected. Did Saber not like Merlin?

"Because it doesn't feel right not knowing _anything_ about Merlin himself. Knowledge of his character and personality has been lost to time, and the only thing that remains is the records of his immense power. But remembering someone only for what they've done and not who they are isn't something that I want to do."

Saber bit her lip. "Was Merlin famous in your world?"

Harry chuckled. "In my society, Merlin was considered the closest thing to God." God with a capital G. Most wizards weren't religious, but the Wizarding World as a whole agreed that Merlin was on a level by himself. He was considered a superior being by people who perform miracles on a daily basis.

Of course, while historians concur that Merlin possessed an immense power, they disagreed on what it actually _was._ Some say his transfiguration allowed him to alter the entire battlefield, others say he had total control over the elements, and there's even a small group that said he was a master of the Dark Arts.

As a result, Harry doesn't know how powerful Merlin actually was. He's fairly certain that Dumbledore can match Merlin in combat, simply because of how magic has evolved and grown over time.

Thousands of years ago, wizards had to use hours-long rituals just to perform a single combat spell that called lightning down from the sky. Harry has a spell that can do it in about three seconds. Dumbledore can manage it in less than one.

Modern magic is generally more powerful and a _lot_ faster to cast than magic of the olden times. Rather, magic itself is still the same, but the _way_ wizards use the magic has changed.

That isn't to say all ancient spells are weak. There are definitely several that trumps modern spells tenfold. As a general rule of thumb, though, modern is better.

A fight between Dumbledore and Merlin would be awe-inspiring to watch, that's for sure. Dumbledore was hailed the Merlin of the modern Wizarding World, and Merlin was widely regarded as one of the most powerful wizards in the ancient world.

But that's the thing: while the Founders of Hogwart's power levels and exploits in battle were recorded down, Merlin's wasn't. Or perhaps it was, but the records were all destroyed.

It's a mystery.

And so, being right next to King Arthur, who had been guided personally by Merlin, was like a dream come true to Harry. King Arthur was a legendary hero and all, but Merlin was _Merlin_.

"Merlin, also known as the Magus of Flowers, is one of the most powerful mages that I know. He had Clairvoyance-"

Hold up.

"Merlin was a seer?!" Harry exclaimed in shock.

Saber nodded. "He would have visions and give prophecies from time to time."

Ohhhhh that wasn't good. After encountering Trelawney, Harry had, in a fit of irritation, announced that all seers were useless. Further encounters with Trelawney only proved his point. One meeting with the portrait of the seer Cassandra made him even more resolute that he was correct.

But Merlin, _the_ Merlin, was a seer?! Harry mentally apologized for calling seers "useless wastes of magic." He took it back. Only _some_ seers were useless.

"Okay, continue."

Saber's eyes unfocused somewhat, as if remembering a memory "As I was saying, Merlin was definitely an extremely powerful mage. It's said that nature itself would fight against his enemies, and his presence on the battlefield would turn the tide of the battle. While he never personally involved himself in any of my battles, his prowess and mastery is undeniable."

That made sense. In a battle between muggles, even a single somewhat competent wizard on one side is enough to drastically increase their chances of victory. Muggles couldn't really do much against magic, after all. Even the weaker area-of-effect spells could do a lot, since muggles possess little physical resistance and even less magical resistance.

Not to mention how muggles can't undo any spells or charms. With wizards, a charm that made the floor ice can be easily countered with a Finite. An animated tree can be burned or transfigured into something else. Muggles, however, can't reverse magic at all, so simple spells like the Tickling Hex can become an actual threat.

Even in the modern times, muggles simply will not stand a chance against a wizard. A highly trained SAS unit armed with fully automatic weapons, RPGs, flashbangs, and grenades is able to be held back by a single Auror.

It depends on the reaction speed of the Auror, really. A Shield Charm can block bullets with ease. A thrown grenade can be transfigured. The momentum of an RPG can be dispelled, and once the momentum is gone, a transfiguration can be performed. A flashbang would probably pose the most danger, but wizards recover must faster than muggles, so it'll probably only stun the wizard for one or two seconds- not nearly enough time for the muggles to wear down the Shield.

Not only that, but if the Auror was outmatched- something unlikely to happen- he can always Disapparate away to safety.

There isn't much muggles can do against wizards. Especially not in the olden days.

Then Saber's eyes focused, and her gaze narrowed slightly. "Merlin was also a womanizer. A terrible flirt. He's immature and acts like a child most of the time. He's extremely mischievous, and he is probably the cause of many troubles everywhere."

Wait. What?

"He's annoying. He likes seeing me being tormented by my Knights. He plays pranks often. He's too happy all the time, even when he really shouldn't be happy. Did I mention his womanizing ways?"

"Wait wait wait," Harry protested. "_That_ was Merlin's personality?" Harry didn't expect that at all.

"Well, okay," Saber relented. "Merlin was definitely good, in every sense of the word. He watched over and protected the world so that mankind would reach a happy outcome. He was just. . . really annoying to deal with."

Although, to be fair, it wasn't exactly surprising that Merlin had his quirks. Every powerful wizard had their own quirks. Dumbledore acted like a senile grandfather half the time, wearing terribly uncomplimentary clothes and always sucking on some form of candy with a twinkle in his eye.

Voldemort was a dark lord who killed for fun. Enough said.

Harry liked to think that he was immune from the pattern. It's far more probable that Harry was still too young to fully develop his eccentricities, but Harry could hope.

"I don't know how similar the Merlin of my world was to your world, but that is how the Merlin I knew was," Saber concluded.

Saber's description of Merlin sounded frighteningly similar to someone Harry knew once. . .

"He sounds like my godfather," Harry said wistfully.

Saber blinked. "Your godfather?"

"Yeah. I met him when I was thirteen years old. He had broken out of wizard prison to protect me. His name was Sirius Black, and he was the best godfather I could've asked for."

Dumbledore had taught Harry morals and magic. Harry's friends taught him the meaning of friendship and camaraderie.

Sirius taught him how to have fun in life, to enjoy life and the great pleasure that come with it.

"He was immature too. He acted like a kid more than me sometimes. He played pranks, joked all the time, and never once looked unhappy." Harry smiled at the thought of Sirius. Even though Sirius had spent more than a decade in Azkaban where the Dementors undoubtedly devastated both his mental and physical health, he never lost that cheerful outlook on life.

Or perhaps it was _because_ Sirius was in a veritable hell on earth for thirteen years that he always had a positive outlook on things.

"On our first official meeting, he dragged me into pranking my Potions teacher." Harry stared unseeing at the wall behind Saber, getting lost in memories.

"_So, Harry, what do you like to do in your spare time?"_

"_I train my magic."_

"_Training your magic? That's boring. Come on, let's go trap Snape's room. I'm thinking charming his pillows to make his hair go out in every direction. And making the ceiling drop itching powder in the middle of the night. Then a dungbomb or two. Oh, and maybe a life-sized animated Acromantula."_

'_But that's. . ."_

"_But nothing. Let's go. It'll be fun"_

Saber's voice brought him back to the present. "That does sound like what Merlin would do. His pranks caused quite some trouble to the Round Table."

"They would've been great friends if they had met," Harry said. His gaze turned solemn. "Sirius died though, just four years after I first met him. He died protecting me. He went out with a bang. I think that was the death he wanted."

Protecting the most precious thing to him while going out in a series of explosions that crippled Voldemort's forces for six months was definitely Sirius's ideal death. Much better than wasting away in misery in Azkaban.

"He sounded like an honorable man," Saber said. Harry appreciated her response. She didn't give any empty platitudes. She was to the point.

"He was. He was a Gryffindor like me," Harry proudly declared. His Gryffindor pride may not be as large as Ron's, but he still had some.

"The House of the brave and chivalrous, right?"

Harry nodded. "Yup. Before I forget, if the Phantasmal Beasts all retreated to the Reverse Side of the World, then where did Merlin get the dragon heartstrings from?"

"In my time, not all of the Phantasmal Beasts have left yet. There were still some left, including dragons." Saber glanced down at herself. "I'm not sure exactly how Merlin acquired the dragon heartstrings though, since that happened before I was born."

"So you're sure that there are no magical creatures around anymore?" Harry already knew what the answer would be, but he had to ask.

"No. They've all left to the Reverse Side of the World."

Harry tapped the table. "How do you go to the Reverse Side of the World then?"

Saber shrugged. "I do not know. It's a realm where the Divine and Phantasmal Beasts retreated to. As such, I'm fairly certain that you are unable to go there, even with your Apparition."

"Alright," Harry said dejectedly. That's unfortunate. Harry had wanted to try and acquire a strong core from there. It looks like it won't happen though.

Saber stood up. "I should return to sleep. Please call upon me if there's any trouble."

"I will," Harry stood up as well, stretching and popping a couple vertebrae. "Conserve your mana."

Saber opened the sliding door and walked off, leaving Harry alone once more.

With nothing to do, Harry meandered out into the clearing once more. The sun was close to setting. The weather was nice. It was cold, but not too cold. Harry's cloak was more than enough to block out the worst of the cold.

Harry just stood there for a while, absorbing the sun's rays and enjoying the slight breeze against his face. He had learned to cherish times like these, times when he didn't have to worry about anything. He closed his eyes and let the tranquility wash over him.

Then he heard a piercing scream.

Damnit. Of course.

Harry Disapparated towards the direction of the scream, ready to Fade out of Reality at a moment's notice. This might be a trap, after all.

A young girl was being attacked by a man wrapped in black. The man was covered entirely: black shoes, black pants, black long-sleeved shirt, black glove, black scarf, black headpiece, and tinted black goggles. Harry took a moment to appreciate the man's color coordination. Granted, it was probably less for aesthetics and more for practicality, but still.

He held a knife and was currently advancing slowly towards the girl, who was backed up against a wall.

Harry simply cast a summoning charm at the man. He smiled when it actually worked as intended, instead of slowly fizzling out like it had on Saber. The man was dragged back by an unseen force towards Harry. A red disarming charm hit him, causing the man to lose possession of the knife, followed by a stunning spell.

The man collapsed, unconscious.

Harry ignored him, instead walking up to the girl. She looked to be around 13 to 14 years old. She was short, coming up to Harry's chin, and she had long black hair and red eyes. She was wearing a black dress with a red ribbon bow tie.

"Thank you so much!" She gushed, a wide smile on her face. "You saved me!"

Harry smiled, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. He needs to Obliviate her. He's pretty sure that this world has a Statute of Secrecy, or something close to it.

"You're welcome," Harry raised his hand and was about to erase the last few minutes completely, a feat simple enough to do wandlessly. There are several ways to use Obliviate. You can do a block wipe, which is simple, or you can do a fine-tuned wipe that only deletes certain parts of her memory, which requires much more concentration and precision.

"Are you a mage?" The girl's words stopped Harry. Was she aware of magic's existence? Was she a Master? Even worse, was she a Servant?

"Who are you?" Harry replied to her question with a question of his own.

She smiled. "Call me Altrouge." Instantly, Harry's paranoia skyrocketed. Why would she only give her first name? Either she's hiding her identity, or she's an orphan. Harry would put money on the former.

Even so, she could just be shy or even scared of Harry. She was just attacked; being a bit cautious is natural.

"Hello there, Altrouge. My name's Harry Potter. Are you okay?" He didn't smell any blood on her. She smelled really good, actually. A mixture of vanilla and coffee.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Altrouge said. "You didn't answer my question, though. Are you a mage?"

"Technically, I am. So you're aware of the existence of magic?" Harry still couldn't tell if she was a muggle who liked to read fantasy books or an actual mage.

Altrouge looked around furtively. When she saw that nobody was around, she turned back to Harry. "Of course I know that magic is real. What do you mean by 'technically' being a mage?"

"It's a long story," A story that Harry wasn't going to share. He still didn't know if this girl was an enemy or not. She was cute, sure, but just being cute doesn't mean that you can't kill. "Why did this man attack you?"

Altrouge's smile disappeared. "I don't know. I was just walking down the street when he jumped out at me. Thank goodness you were here to stop him. I don't know what I would've done."

Harry absently cracked a knuckle. He didn't really like people who attacked others for no good reason. The man was lucky he was only subjected to a stunning spell.

Harry briefly contemplated waking up the man and knocking him back unconscious using more. . . _painful_ methods, but ultimately decided against it. Making sure Altrouge was safe is his number one priority.

Sure, she might be a killer with a masterful disguise, but there was also the chance that she was a schoolgirl in the wrong place at the wrong time. Who coincidentally knew the truth about magic. Coincidences rarely happened- but they still happened, and this could be one of the rare ones.

"Do you want me to walk you home?" Harry offered. If Altrouge tried to attack him, Harry could simply Disapparate away. He doubted that she could harm him.

Altrouge shook her head. "I don't live here. I'm travelling. I'm currently staying at a hotel." That explained why she wasn't at school. "I was going to get a quick bite to eat, actually. Do you want to join me? I'll pay. It's the least I can do for my savior."

Harry was about to reply when her eyes widened suddenly. Behind him! Harry whirled around, an area-of-effect banishing charm already halfway completed, when he saw that the man wasn't attacking.

The man was gone. There wasn't any trace of him. What had happened? Harry didn't sense any movement at all. So the man knew magic then. No muggle could've disappeared without Harry sensing it.

Oh well. It saved Harry the trouble of having to drag the man to the nearest magical prison. In fact, did this world even have a magical prison? They had to have, right?

Just to be safe, Harry sent out a pulse to see if the man was regrouping to attack them again. He found nothing. It appears that he'd retreated, then.

"Where did he go?" Altrouge asked in alarm. Her eyes moved around rapidly, scanning for the man.

"Whoa. Calm down. It's going to be fine," Harry said soothingly. He didn't want a panic attack on his hands.

Altrouge stopped, calming down almost instantly. "You're right, it's probably fine. So, want to go get something to eat? I'm in the mood for something sweet."

Was she leading him into a trap?

Harry scanned the girl, looking her up and down. She was just a teenager. She didn't have tightly coiled muscles ready to strike. Her hands weren't calloused. She didn't have an aura of danger around her. She was just a normal schoolgirl traveling around.

Harry mentally shrugged. Oh well. He was probably overthinking it anyways. He didn't want to become like Moody, whose paranoia was legendary.

Harry's intuition said that she could be trusted, that she wasn't dangerous. And Harry listened to his intuition. It's saved him too many times to count.

"Alright, sure." Eating something sweet sounded pretty good, actually. Harry wondered if he should wake Saber up but decided against it. He'd be gone for an hour, max. She needed to get her rest and conserve her mana.

Harry felt like he was forgetting something though. What was it- that's right. Security cameras.

Harry scanned his surroundings. No security cameras to be seen. Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Security cameras had almost led to the discovery of the Wizarding World multiple times. If there was a security camera, then there's actually a pretty nifty spell that Harry can use- not to wipe the footage, but rather to make it so that any muggles watching the footage will only see a blur around Harry.

Harry doesn't quite know how it works. It was created in a joint-session by several spell crafters employed by the ICW. All he knows is that it took the basic notice-me-not charm and applied it to the recorded footage. The exact mechanics are lost to Harry; he stopped trying to understand once the words "hard drive" and "magnetic domain" were mentioned.

See, the thing is, there are actually a few spells that don't react badly with electronics. A repair charm, for example, can reliably fix a broken computer. A cleaning charm will get all the gunk off of a phone.

The "security camera blur" spell is a spell that falls into that category.

Of course, even if Harry _isn't_ casting any spells, electronics still tended to randomly burst into flames around him. Although this seems to be the case only for the most powerful wizards, whose magic is curled around themselves constantly, ready to be called upon at a moment's notice.

There's also a "security camera notice-me-not" charm- a sister charm invented alongside the "security camera blur" spell. The former is passive, the latter is active. The "security camera notice-me-not" charm creates a blur around Harry at all times.

Altrouge grabbed Harry's hand and started walking, her head slightly turned around to address Harry. "So, are you good at magecraft? Do you know any arcane spells?"

Harry chuckled at her enthusiasm. "I know several, yes."

She gave him a beaming smile. "That's awesome! Can you teach me any?"

"I'm sorry, but I don't think you can use any of them."

Altrouge pouted. "Please? I'm a quick learner."

Harry brushed a few strands of white hair out of his face. "It's not that. I don't think you _can_ do any of them. It's complicated." Once more not revealing his magic is different.

He turned back one last time to see if the man had returned. The spot was empty. He didn't know how the man escaped, and he didn't particularly care either.

"So, how long are you in Japan?" Harry asked Altrouge.

She shrugged. "As long as I want."

Harry smiled. "No school, I take it?" Or she was ditching. That was also a probability.

Altrouge shook her head. "I don't need to go to school." Right. Some pureblooded parents didn't send their children to muggle schools either, considering them useless.

What point was there in learning science when you're just going to violate them in the future? What point was there in learning math that you would literally never use? A simple calculation charm could do everything faster and better than any human could.

She led him through a couple twists and turns until they stood in front of a small shop. A sign read "A Cold Delight." A large pink strawberry ice cream cone was to the side.

"Ice cream in this weather?" Harry asked bemusedly.

Altrouge shrugged. "Why not?"

Fair enough.

They walked in. Altrouge poked Harry in the arm. "Hey, can you go find a table for us to sit? I'll order. What do you want?"

Harry examined the menu. Sadly, treacle tart wasn't on there as a flavor. "I'll take a caramel ice cream."

"Got it." Altrouge walked up to stand in line. Thankfully, the line wasn't very long; only two people were in front of her.

Harry looked around the shop. He took a few seconds to appreciate the aesthetics. It was wonderfully designed. Then his battle instincts took over and he noted threats. Window seats were out. That's just asking for a Piercing Curse through the glass.

In the end, he walked over to seats that were in the corner of the shop. Far away from windows, and it granted Harry a view of everything in the shop.

This girl was just attacked, after all. There's no telling if the man would come back.

Altrouge walked towards the table with two ice cream cones in her hand. She had bought a strawberry cone for herself, and she handed Harry his caramel one.

"Thank you," Harry said as Altrouge took a seat across from him. "Are you a participant in the Holy Grail War?"

Sometimes, you had to be subtle. Other times, the direct approach would work best.

Altrouge blinked. "No, but I've heard of it." She took a small spoon and began taking chunks out of her ice cream. Is. . . is she eating an ice cream cone with a spoon?!

That actually seemed pretty smart. No mess would be made that way. Harry ripped open the plastic wrap and took out his own spoon, copying Altrouge's actions.

"So you're not a Master or Servant or anything, right?"

"No. Why, do you want me to be?" Altrouge grinned at him. Harry's Empathy confirmed that she was telling the truth. He relaxed a little bit. So she truly was no threat.

"Not at all. In fact, I'd appreciate it if you stayed as far away from the Holy Grail War as possible."

One of the side branches of Legilimency is Empathy, the ability to detect the emotions outputted by a person. It's not invasive at all, since it's just interpreting the emotions already being broadcasted. It can be used to tell if a person is lying or not.

Harry stopped his Empathy, since it receives _all_ emotions in a vicinity, not just one person's. It gets really distracting after several seconds.

"So, are you a Servant? Because I don't think a Master can be as powerful as you."

Harry nodded. "I think I'm a Servant. Actually. . . I'm not really sure."

When Harry really thought about it, he's probably not a Servant. He wasn't pulled into this world by the Grail; he took advantage of the magic circle and forced himself through it. But even if he wasn't an official Servant, he's still an unofficial one, since he'll fight for Shirou.

It's his saving people thing.

"What do you mean by 'you think you're a Servant?' Either you are, or you aren't." Altrouge eyed Harry suspiciously.

"It's. . . complicated. Anyway," Harry deflected, "Do you know why the man attacked you? Any reason at all? Do you think he's going to come back?"

Altrouge was quiet for a moment, lifting her spoon to her mouth. "I don't know why he attacked me. I don't think he's coming back."

That's a lie. She definitely knew why he attacked her. She wasn't sharing. Oh well. She has the right to keep her secrets. As long as she wasn't a Servant out to kill Harry, then he was fine with it.

Altrouge then leaned forward. "Come on, spill. What's your most powerful spell?"

"It depends on the context of the situation." An Avada Kedavra, for example, would be useless against an army of animated statues.

Altrouge huffed. "Fine. What's your favorite spell then?"

Now that was easy enough to answer. "It's less of a spell and more of a branch of magic. Transfiguration is my favorite."

Transfiguration was awesome. The battlefield itself would become the enemy. Combined with Harry's Fading, he can literally just stand there unaffected while the world itself turns against Harry's opponents.

While Transfiguration may not be permanent, in a fight, it doesn't have to be.

Of course, while it's Harry's favorite branch of magic because of how versatile it is, Transfiguration isn't the most powerful. A single Fiendfyre could theoretically wipe out all of Harry's transfigured objects. But at the same time, a Killing Curse can't do anything, since there would be so many physical obstacles blocking it. So it really depends on the matchup.

"Transfiguration?"

"Changing one object into another." Harry provided.

"Whoa. That sounds really strong. So can you change a dead person into a live one?"

Harry froze. "I can't. That's impossible. You can't bring back the dead." With exceptions, of course.

"That must suck." Altrouge sighed. "It would be nice to be able to revive the dead."

"No. Let the dead stay dead," Harry said harshly. Altrouge flinched at his sudden change of tone.

"Sorry," Harry relented. "It's just that. . . Just don't try to bring them back. The results aren't worth it."

With exceptions, of course.

"Okay," Altrouge said quietly. Then her smile was back onto her face. "Hey, how did you defeat that man? What spells did you use?"

"It was a simple summoning, disarming, and stunning. Elementary stuff, really."

Operational security was essential and all, but Harry had no qualms in releasing information about simple tactics and spells he used.

He just kept the really obscure and destructive spells secret.

"Not only that, but you appeared out of nowhere. There wasn't any time lag; one moment there was nothing, the next moment you were there." Altrouge twirled a strand of hair around her finger. "Was that True Magic? It didn't seem like a normal Spatial Transportation spell."

"I've been told that it's True Magic," Harry scooped out the last of the ice cream from the cone, relishing the sweet taste. While it wasn't treacle tart, caramel was close enough. "Hold on. What do you mean by Spatial Transportation?"

"Spatial Transportation is something that imitates True Magic. Anyone with enough skill can do it, though it's almost never seen in modern times anymore. With Spatial Transportation, however, there's a small time delay of several milliseconds, while yours appears to be instantaneous."

Harry blinked. That was news to him. "Oh. Then no, it's certainly not Spatial Transportation. There's no time delay at all with Apparition."

"That's amazing," Altrouge breathed. "You know True Magic? Are you even human?"

Harry blinked. "Of course I'm a human. What else would I be?"

"You could be a vampire. Or a Divine Spirit. You could be many things, actually. Are you going to eat me?" Altrouge now looked a tiny bit scared, shrinking back into her chair.

"Of course not," Harry raised his hands placatingly. "I'm fully human, I promise, with no cannibalistic traits at all."

"Do you promise? Did you drag me over here just to take my soul?" Altrouge looked positively frightened now.

Harry stared at her. "You invited me. . ."

Her posture changed immediately. She straightened up and gave Harry a sheepish smile. "Oh right. I forgot."

Harry couldn't help but smile. Her positivity and liveliness was infectious. "So why are you here in Japan? Are you visiting family?"

Altrouge shook her head. "Nope. I'm just here sightseeing."

"That's wonderful. Where are you planning to go? Mount Fuji?"

"Nah, I've already been there before. I've been to almost all of the sightseeing places, actually. Right now, I'm not here to see locations. I'm here to see cool magic stuff." Altrouge said excitedly.

"And am I the 'cool magic stuff?'" Harry asked dryly. He crunched down on the last bits of the cone.

"Of course! You know _True Magic_! Do you realize how rare that is?" Altrouge lifted up two fingers. "There are only two people capable of doing it. With you, that makes three!"

Huh. Harry wondered how Altrouge would react if she knew that knowing Apparition was considered basic magic in his world.

"So do you know anything else? Can you destroy planets? Can you bring down the moon?" Altrouge listed out.

"Nope. That requires way too much magic. And even if I could, I wouldn't." The sheer amount of magic involved in such a task would be astronomical. Harry couldn't even put a number to it.

"Really?" Altrouge looked dejected. Why would she look dejected? Did she _want _Harry to be able to destroy the planet while calling down the moon?

Then she brightened again. "Oh, I have one. If you can't bring back the dead, can you-"

She was cut off by Harry grabbing his head. Large ringing noises echoed in Harry's ears, heard only by him.

The stone Harry had given Shirou. It activated. Shirou was in trouble.

Harry stood up, cast a notice-me-not charm on himself to prevent the muggles from asking questions, then spun in place and Disapparated out.

Green sparks fluttered down onto the surface of the table, forming the words, "I'm sorry, but I have to go _right now_. It was nice talking to you. I hope we can meet up again. If that man comes back to attack you, or if you're in any trouble at all, just smash the rock onto the ground. I'll know, and I'll come."

A stone covered with alert runes lay next to the sparks. Harry had made several extras just in case Shirou lost or broke his.

After a few moments, the sparks disappeared, harmlessly winking out of existence.

Once Harry had left, Altrouge's smile melted off her face. An expression void of all emotion replaced it. It was inhuman, alien. And yet. . . there was a small trace of something on her face. Something new.

It was excitement.

"So that was Harry Potter," she remarked as she finished her strawberry ice cream cone. She stood up. Thankfully, it appeared that he didn't know what Dead Apostle Ancestors were, otherwise her name should've sent alarm bells ringing in his head.

It's a pity her underling had to die. She ordered him to attack her in order to try and discern some of the Sorcerer's abilities, but Harry only revealed basic attacks and strategies. Primate Murder had killed him, of course. She couldn't have anyone else knowing of Harry Potter. Power over Death would be hers and hers alone. Harry Potter was a gem, a gem that she had to hide from the others.

Thankfully, the underling was a relatively new member of her faction, not important to be missed or even remembered. She didn't even know his name.

Primate Murder had certainly not grown weak in his inactivity. One moment he was alive, the next he was gone. Wiped from existence. Not even his clothes remained. The Dog of Gaia truly was the perfect killing machine.

Altrouge stood up. She picked up the stone Harry had left, weighing it in her palm.

"So he'll come if I smash this," she mused. This could come in handy. This could definitely come in handy.

Altrouge then smiled. She was no longer bored. That was good for her, and bad for everyone else.

XxX

The stone had a secondary function to it besides alerting Harry. It acted as a marker that Harry could track. Harry's unique magical signature was on it, and if there's one thing Harry could do, it's track his own magical signature.

Once he acquired Shirou's location, he Apparated first next to Saber's side. Her eyes snapped open immediately, and she sat up in the futon.

Harry simply said "Shirou's in trouble," before grabbing her hand and Apparating slightly to the left of the stone. He didn't want to land on _top_ of Shirou.

Saber materialized her armor and sword the instant they reappeared. Wind blew through Harry's hair as Saber's Invisible Air formed.

They were in a forest. The sun was almost down. Soft golden hues of light shone through the woods.

Shirou was standing, the shattered remains of the rock scattered around his feet. His right arm had a hole right through it. Blood gushed out in a steady stream. That looked really bad.

"Shirou, you're bleeding!" Saber exclaimed. Her eyes narrowed.

Harry quickly manipulated the threads of Shirou's shirt so that it would unravel, enlarge into bandage-sized strips, then wrap tightly around the wound. It's an easier way to bind something without actually conjuring up ropes.

Shirou yelped, not expecting it. "What-"

"Oh? Who are you two?" A voice cut through the clearing.

A woman. Long purple hair, a lighter color than Caster's. She was wearing boots, a skin-tight thigh-length black dress that left her shoulders bare, and long tights. She was holding a weapon, a nail attached to metal chains.

Harry couldn't tell where the chains began.

She had a red mark on her forehead. Harry ignored that, though, instead focusing on the purple blindfold covering her eyes.

Oh no. This was bad. Raw panic surged through him.

"Shirou, Saber, shut your eyes!" Harry slammed his eyelids shut, stretching out his magic so he could still "see" around him.

"Why? What is it?" Next to him, Saber also closed her eyes, taking up a defensive stance.

"Just do it! If they have their eyes covered, then once they lift their blindfold, they're going to reveal that they have some ridiculous eye power that will probably kill you with its gaze!" An image of a young boy with basilisk eyes implanted into him flashed across Harry's mind. Sorrow and regret rose up, but Harry pushed it down.

"Since when was that a rule?" Shirou asked, backstepping to get away from Harry and Saber. Good. Harry didn't want him to get into the crossfire.

"It's common sense! _Nobody_ is blind in the magical world. Nine times out of ten, their blindfold is a self-imposed handicap to keep an eye-related power under control!"

Harry ran through every hero in the myths that would have a reason to blindfold themselves. There was a blind monk from the lands in the East. In the legends he was a guy, but after seeing King Arthur reveal herself to be a girl, Harry couldn't be sure.

Of course, if it was the blind monk, then Harry should be fine. In the legends, he was a martial artist who truly was blind, utilizing sonic waves and a dragon's rage to completely obliterate the enemy. No special eye powers at all.

The woman in front of him didn't seem like a monk, though. Her dress was a little too revealing.

Other than that, Harry couldn't think of any heroes who were blind. Phineas, the seer that helped the Argonauts, was blind. But he was an old balding man who had no combat capabilities.

But then, was there even a rule that the Grail had to only summon heroes? Could this woman be Medusa? A monster who could turn people to stone if they looked at her eyes?

. . .nah. There's no way. Medusa had snakes for hair, and her face was supposed to be hideous. This woman was not ugly at all.

Oh well. Looks like Harry's going to have to fight this with no intel at all. Thankfully, Saber's by his side.

The woman had been observing their conversation with a detached amusement. "Are you finished?"

Harry turned his head back over to the woman. His magic was in the air, in the ground, in the trees. Even though his eyes were shut, he still had perfect awareness around him.

He couldn't simply manifest magical eyes like he normally does when he Fades because some ocular abilities activate on eye contact alone. It doesn't matter what type of eyes you're using, the magic activates anyway.

"Yeah, we are. Any chance of you leaving peacefully?" Shirou was bleeding badly, and could possibly be poisoned. Other Servants could be around. Rin. . . oh no. Where was Rin? Was she fighting elsewhere? Harry had to end this quickly.

If she left, Harry wouldn't chase her. If she fought. . .

"Not a chance. Shutting your eyes against me will do nothing at all. You see, you were at my mercy all along."

With this ominous line delivered, the woman lifted her right hand and _pulled_. Chains that led to Shirou materialized in her hand, wrapping itself around. . . nothing. They flopped down onto the ground. "What?"

Harry let go of Shirou's arm. They were now a couple feet away from Harry's last position. Apparating in, grabbing Shirou before the chains could get ahold of his arm, then Disapparating out was child's play.

He had noticed the chains coiled at ready around Shirou's arm the moment he spread out his magic. They were invisible in the visible spectrum, but they weren't spelled against magical detection. Harry had waited for her to spring her attack.

"T-thanks," Shirou said.

Saber exploded into action in front of him, crossing the distance between her and the woman in a burst of speed. Speed that was augmented by a lack of air resistance. Simple charms that violated physics on a whim was extremely useful.

And yet, however fast Saber was, the woman proved to be even faster. With an insanely quick reaction time, the moment Saber started to move, the woman moved as well, leaping backwards. A nail shot at Saber, who simply batted it to the side with her sword. It sailed past her ears.

The woman pulled on the chain, causing the nail to return in an arc, expertly flying around in a circle around Saber.

The woman pulled again, causing the chains to tighten around Saber, binding her arms to her waist.

The woman changed directions with frightening agility, accelerating forwards, nail aimed to pierce Saber's heart. Harry smirked. She took the bait.

Checkmate.

He Apparated in, grabbed Saber, and Disapparated behind the woman. The chains, with nothing to bind around, lost all tension and fell down. The woman tried to react, turning around in midair, but Saber's sword cut down, ignoring the chain held in defense like it was nothing, and slammed into the woman.

Not sliced. Slammed. While the woman wasn't fast enough to dodge the swing, she managed to maneuver her body so that the blunt side would hit. Even so, the blow was debilitating. Harry heard several cracks as ribs broke. He held back a wince. He knew how it felt to have ribs broken. He knew how it felt all too well.

Saber changed her sword grip, going into a reverse grip, intent on slashing upwards and bisecting the woman. Before she could attack, however, the woman's hands blurred and chains, embedded into trees, formed a wall in front of her. A single nail flew out from behind the chains right at Saber, who was forced to sidestep to avoid it.

Harry banished the wall of chains almost as soon as it appeared, ripping the chains out of the trees, but that was enough time for the woman.

She had front-flipped onto the branch of a tree, looked back at Saber and Harry, then turned around and disappeared, the chains around them dematerializing as well.

"She ran off," Saber intoned emotionlessly. "Why do they keep on doing that?"

"We're just too good, I guess," Harry placated as he opened his eyes once again. The knight part of Saber was probably in pain at just how many time their enemies retreated.

Though she did have a point. Lancer, Berserker, and now this woman. They all left in the middle of the fight.

"That was flawless teamwork, by the way," Harry grinned in exhilaration, the events catching up to him. "She got baited so hard. Good work."

"You too. I was a little worried that you wouldn't catch on to my plan, but I needn't have." Saber too had a small smile on her face.

It truly was magnificent teamwork. Harry had predicted what Saber would do, and Saber predicted what Harry would do, and they incorporated that knowledge into their plan and executed it _flawlessly_, all without saying a word.

Harry had forgotten how _good_ it felt fighting with a partner that was just as proficient as he was.

Rin ran up to them. "Harry, Saber, you're here!" Thank Merlin. She was safe. "Did you stop Shirou's bleeding?"

Harry examined the wound closely. The makeshift bandages he threw together were already soaked in blood. "I don't know. Do you have anything to wrap it up with?"

"I have a handkerchief," Shirou handed Rin a black handkerchief with a silver border. She started to expertly wrap it on top of the makeshift bandages. "Sakura keeps on giving them to me."

"Same," Rin said. Finished, she let go of Shirou's arm.

Was there anything Harry can do? A memory rose up within him. A spell he learned years ago, one he had almost forgotten.

Harry stepped up. "Allow me," he said. Stabs through the heart were hard to treat wandlessly. A simple puncture wound on the arm was much simpler.

Harry twirled his finger. Once, twice, three times. A trail of golden light started forming behind his finger. Harry waited until it looked almost solid before bringing his finger over to Shirou's arm and swiped it around the wound, golden light remaining where his finger touched.

The light glowed brightly for a second before dimming and sinking into the makeshift bandages, facilitating the healing process massively.

Harry smiled, satisfied. "Done." It should be completely healed in an hour. Perhaps even sooner if Shirou's self-healing magic kicked in. He cast several detection charms to see if there was any poison in the wound.

Just because a battle was over didn't mean all the danger was gone. Harry didn't want to bury Shirou because he failed to detect poison in his bloodstream.

Thankfully, the detection charms all came back clear. Shirou was safe. It was just a flesh wound.

Once he was completely sure that Shirou was stabilized and wouldn't be bleeding out soon, Harry stared Shirou straight in the eye.

"What happened?" Harry demanded. He should've expected this. He shouldn't have let Shirou go to school unaccompanied. This was all his fault.

"We were walking back to Shirou's house when we heard a scream," Rin reported. "We found a girl unconscious. She was drained. I managed to heal her."

Drained? Was this Caster's work? Could that woman have been Assassin?

Shirou's head whipped around to face Rin. "Is she alright? Will there be any lasting effects?"

Rin smiled. "Yeah. She might be tired for a few days, but nothing serious. She's fine."

"That's great," Shirou smiled back, clearly happy that she was alright.

Harry wasn't as happy. "Did the woman introduce herself? Monologue a bit, perhaps? Was she Assassin?"

Saber took over for this one. "That's highly unlikely. As we know, Caster has a Master-Servant bond with Assassin-"

"What?!" Rin gasped. Oh right. Harry hadn't told them yet about Caster's visit.

He glanced around warily. He couldn't be sure if there were any listeners. They were out in the open, vulnerable to attacks from all directions.

"Hey, we should go back to the compound for now. Let's not stay here," Harry reached out to grab them before halting. "After I take care of Shirou's blood."

"Huh? What's wrong with my blood?" Shirou looked at the blood on his arm. It was a normal shade of red.

"I meant the blood on the ground," Harry clarified. "Wizards can do all sorts of things when they have your blood. It's best not to leave any around. Hold on a moment, let me clean it all up."

"Okay?"

Harry followed the trail of blood on the forest ground, waving his hand every so often to clean it up. Droplets of blood on the ground, droplets on fallen leaves, droplets on sticks. . . he made sure to leave no trace.

It was odd though. Harry had expected the trail to be much shorter. If Shirou had gotten injured in the fight with the woman, even if he was running away, the trail still shouldn't be this long.

Growing slightly suspicious, he followed it, passing a low-rise gate and walking onto school grounds. The original blood splatter seemed to be on the floor of an outdoor hallway. Harry distractedly removed the blood from the scene, facts being linked together in his mind.

If Shirou was initially impaled over here. . . and the blood trail led all the way back fairly deep into the forest. . .

Harry narrowed his eyes. That meant that Shirou had waited before smashing the rock onto the ground. Shirou must've spent time running from the outdoor hallway to the forest. And in that time, he didn't even attempt to summon Harry at all.

Harry didn't like that. He shouldn't jump to conclusions though. He needs to get a thorough understanding of what had happened first. _Then_ he'll go yell at Shirou for his recklessness. It might be a little hypocritical, but Shirou couldn't handle Servants at his current level. It was for his own good, really.

Harry strode back into the forest, retracing his steps. He kept an eye out to see if he missed any blood. He didn't. Harry nodded in satisfaction.

Saber, Shirou, and Rin were standing in a circle when he arrived. Rin looked amused. Shirou looked sheepish. Saber looked downright displeased.

"What's wrong?" Harry inquired, casting a cleaning charm on himself when he caught sight of some blemishes on his white clothes. The cleaning charm truly was amazing. Harry doesn't know how he'd survive if the cleaning charm wasn't invented. He'll probably invent it himself, come to think of it.

White clothes were hard to maintain, but when they were maintained, well, they looked _awesome_.

Black was cool too, but wearing all black made Harry feel like an edgy fourteen year old who's obsessed with death and stuff. Not to mention the fact that his hair was white, so it wouldn't match.

Getting the Hogwarts professors to approve of his custom white robes had been relatively difficult. Some, like Flitwick and Sprout, simply didn't care. Harry knew the curriculum almost as well as they did, they reasoned, so he could do whatever he wanted as long as it didn't interfere with the class.

McGonagall had originally been against it, but eventually caved in under Harry's persistence. It helped that he promised to keep the Weasley Twins under control.

Other professors- well, okay. One professor in particular was _vehemently_ against it. Severus Snape. His arguments went from "I will not allow any exceptions for any students, _especially_ a Potter. That arrogant brat shouldn't be treated any differently just because of a scar" to "White clothes are an unsightly eyesore."

Every professor had allowed it except for Snape. And so, Harry simply began skipping Potions altogether. Before long, Dumbledore overruled Snape and forced him to allow Harry to wear his white robes. Harry thoroughly enjoyed the gnashing of Snape's teeth whenever he saw him.

"Harry," Saber began in a controlled tone. "Master-" Oh dear. She called Shirou "Master" again. She was mad at him. "-was informing me on what had transpired. Master and Rin were leaving together when Master heard a scream, and when Master went to investigate, Master found a girl unconscious that Rin quickly determined was in that state because she was drained. That was when Rider attacked, piercing Master in the arm."

Rin's amused expression turned to one of confusion. "Rider? How do you know she was Rider?"

"Process of elimination. She wasn't any of the other classes, therefore she must've been Rider. In any case, Master decided, instead of summoning you or me, to _chase_ after Rider armed with nothing but a stick."

Harry narrowed his eyes once more. "So I was correct then. The blood trail led all the way back to an outdoor hallway. There should've been ample time for Shirou to smash the rock or even use a Command Seal. The fact that he didn't. . ."

Saber nodded in agreement. Then they both turned towards Shirou, who was grinning nervously. "Sorry?"

Harry began calming exercises as Saber took a deep breath beside him.

"Come on," Harry said. "I removed all traces of blood. We can return to the compound now. Grab my hand."

Saber and Rin obediently got ahold of Harry's outstretched hand, while Shirou stared at Harry apprehensively.

"Shirou. Either you come to me, or I will come to you. And believe me, you do _not_ want that." Harry's calm voice became an angry hiss. He visibly cooled his expression and began his calming exercises again.

Shirou gulped. "Okay, okay." He gingerly touched Harry's hand, as if afraid that it would burn him.

Harry smiled. It was not his normal smile. It was a smile that promised retribution. "Good. We need to _talk_."

And he Disapparated them all out of the forest, reappearing in Shirou's living room.

XxX

"Of all of the _irresponsible_ things you could've done-" Harry paced back and forth, a few rogues sparks shooting out of his fingertips.

Shirou was kneeling on top of a purple mat. Rin was leaning on the wall behind him, snickering every once in a while.

"I have to agree with Harry," Saber, unlike Harry, was speaking in a calm tone. Somehow, that made it seem even worse. "It was extremely foolish of you to chase after Rider."

"What possessed you to even do that?! You, an inept mage, decided to chase after a being of unknown power! Do the words 'self-preservation' even _mean _anything to you?!"

"Indeed. Without Harry or I there to help you, it's a wonder that you lived through the encounter."

"It was reckless,"

"Ill thought-out,"

"Rash,"

"Imbecilic,"

"Hell, it was just flat-out _stupid_," Harry snapped his fingers to accentuate his point, accidentally cracking a plate in the kitchen as he did so. "Oh, my bad."

Rin, who was busy concealing her smile behind a hand, stopped chuckling under her breath momentarily. "Don't worry, I got it." She fixed the plate, restoring it.

"Thank you," Harry said gratefully. Then he began tearing into Shirou again.

"I'm serious though. Why did you do that?" It wasn't as if Shirou didn't have the means to summon Harry and Saber. He wasn't brain-dead either. Did he just not understand the situation?

Shirou had been cowering under Saber and Harry's verbal onslaught. "Why did I do it. . ." He trailed off.

Shirou then looked up with a determined look in his eyes.

"Because that woman, Rider, hurt someone I cared about. And I had to stop her so she couldn't hurt anyone else. In order to save the people around me, I had to take her out."

Harry looked at him as if he was stupid. "And it didn't occur to you to summon _us_ to defeat her?"

Shirou sheepishly looked to the side. "Actually, no. I got caught up in the heat of the moment. Sorry."

He got caught up in the heat of the mo- Harry threw up his hands. "Okay. Yeah. Fine."

Shirou brightened. "You're okay with it, then?"

Harry's deadened, emotionless expression revealed it all. "I'm beyond words right now."

Although. . . Shirou reminded Harry of himself when he was that age. Never waiting for anyone, not trusting Aurors or the adults to take care of the situation. He had been reckless and brash as well. So Harry could relate.

Oh course, back when Harry made the reckless actions, he'd actually _had_ the power to back it up. Or at least the vague outlines of a plan. Shirou had neither, and he still rushed in.

Saber made a sound of understanding. "Ah, I see."

Shirou looked at her hopefully. "You understand then?"

Saber nodded. "I understand that is is too dangerous to let you return to school. From now on, you shall be staying home in safety. I will not allow my Master to die before I attain the Grail."

Shirou balked. "Wait. I have to go to school-"

"No you don't." Harry didn't really understand why Shirou was so adamant on going. Harry cut classes all the time. He hasn't been in the History of Magic since his second week in first year.

Harry didn't know why Dumbledore didn't fire Binns. Probably sentimentality, all things considered. Harry wasn't going to waste time listening to useless boring lectures, so he just stopped going. Hermione had lectured him untold times about it, but Harry didn't care.

Binn's lectures were so boring, they could probably be weaponized.

"You don't understand. I _have_ to go to school. Fuji-nee is a teacher. If she catches me ditching school then I don't want to think what she'll do to me."

Harry waved dismissively. "Nothing a simple Confundus charm won't fix. I can also warm your forehead up to simulate a fever."

Rin nodded in agreement. "I don't know why you're complaining, Shirou. If there's no important reason to go to school, I would skip, no questions asked."

"Precisely," Thankfully, Rin understood.

"That being said, we must go to school tomorrow." Wait. What? Surprised, Harry could only stare confusedly at Rin.

"You said you would willingly skip school just moments ago," Saber said accusedly.

"I said I would skip if there wasn't an important reason for me to go to school. But there is a reason for us to go to school tomorrow." Even with the full force of Saber and Harry's presence bearing down upon her, Rin didn't lose the smile on her face.

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Elaborate."

"The students at school are in danger," Rin explained. "There's a Bounded Field surrounding the school that will probably kill everyone inside when activated."

Harry stiffened. What did she-

Oh.

There was a Servant _at Shirou's school_ today. Logically, that must make the Master a fellow student or teacher.

If the Servant drained a girl, that must mean the Master is also subpar at supplying mana. So an entire school's worth of energy would be a great asset. If it killed everyone in the process. . . well. This is a war. No act is off-limits.

"We need to go there tomorrow to take care of the Bounded Fields inscribed on the school." Rin continued. "If we don't, hundreds will die. I'm sure you don't want that."

Damn it. Collateral damage must be avoided at all costs.

"Although I do have a question for you," Rin spoke to Saber. "How did you know the woman was Rider?"

"Today, after you left, Caster came over for a conversation." Saber said.

"What?!" Rin screamed, clearly expecting anything but that. Harry didn't know what she expected. Saber already told her that Caster had a Master-Servant bond with Assassin, and the only way for her to know that is if Caster told her.

Saber looked troubled. "She said she didn't want the Grail. I still cannot discern if it was a ploy or if she genuinely meant it. In any case, we could not provide what she wanted. She was most displeased. Needless to say, the conversation did not end in a peaceful manner."

That was a light way of putting it.

Shirou immediately began inspecting his surroundings. "Did you guys break anything?"

Harry smiled. "Nope. No damage at all. Only Caster's illusion came, so it wasn't a full-on battle."

He was pretty proud of that, actually. It was rare when one of his confrontations didn't end in collateral damage to buildings and people.

He cherishes the instances when he can walk away without being hounded by _someone_ for payments and recompense.

James Potter was good at many things. Managing finances was not one of them. Contrary to popular belief, the Potter vaults weren't that deep. They were an old family, but their main focus wasn't making money.

For example, Lucius Malfoy was a major player in both the political and financial world. Not a single decision was made in the Ministry without him being notified. Likewise, nearly half of all wizarding transactions could be linked back to him in some way.

Meanwhile, James Potter was an Auror for a living. It paid well, sure, but it wasn't any more than what a Healer would make.

And it was like this for generations. The Potters focused on pursuing dreams and doing what you want to do, while other old pure-blooded families focused on making money and keeping political power.

Therefore, they weren't the richest. The Potter vault wasn't empty, far from it, but Harry couldn't fling around gold like it was nothing, much less pay for all the damage he caused.

Shirou sighed, relieved. "Good. That's glad to hear."

"As I was saying," Saber said, "Caster revealed that she summoned Assassin."

Rin looked disturbed. "A Servant summoning a Servant?"

"It makes sense in a way. Summoning can be done by a mage, and it can be argued that Caster is the most powerful mage in this area," Saber theorized.

Harry coughed lightly.

"You're a Sorcerer, you don't count," Rin said. "Still though. She summoned a Servant of her own?"

"Yes. I saw her Command Seals with my own eyes. It is for that reason that this woman is unlikely to be Assassin. Caster is already remotely draining the life force from the residents of this city. Assassin should have no reason personally going out and draining the mana of an individual." Saber theorized. "Therefore, if she isn't Assassin, process of elimination says that she must be Rider."

"Hold on. That makes eight Servants."

Harry answered this one. "Apparently, I'm not an actual Servant. I'm just bound by Command Seals."

Rin frowned. "What?"

"I don't know either," Harry confessed. "It's a mystery to me as well."

"That's interesting. So, the woman is Rider? That would work. It's just that. . . I didn't see her _riding _anything, you know?" Rin mused. Then her gaze sharpened.

"So what happened when you two met Caster? Did she draw you two out with creatures composed of bones? Did she threaten a mortal to lure you out?"

Harry chuckled. "Actually, she just knocked."

". . . really?"

"Yup. It was a really pleasant surprise." Harry honestly appreciated Caster's approach. Straight, direct, and diplomatic. "She told us she wanted to be able to live peacefully, even after the War."

Rin considered it. "If she doesn't get killed, then it should be possible for her to remain. As long as there's a Master-Servant bond, staying even after the completion of the War is doable. Although it won't be a Master-Servant scenario anymore; the Servant would become more like a Familiar of sorts. So what was the problem?"

Harry frowned. "She has the same problem Saber has. Her Master is also incapable of providing her adequate amounts of mana. As such, she has no choice but to drain mana from the residents of this city. She came to me asking me to make her a new body or transfer her mana. I'm incapable of doing both- or rather, I'm unwilling to do the first and incapable of doing the second."

Rin gained an eagerness to her tone. "You can create a new body for a soul to inhabit? Can tell me how?"

Harry's entire posture changed. Hunched shoulders, tense muscles, a dark expression on his face.

"I know several ways. And all of them are Dark, extremely so. And I _refuse_ to do any of them." He had a bad experience with one of the methods, and Dumbledore had had bad experiences with the rest and told Harry.

Rin held up her hands. "Fine, fine. Sorry I asked."

Harry sighed, his posture returning to normal. "No, I should be the one apologizing. I had bad experiences with people attaining new bodies, that's all. You couldn't have known."

"So is that why there is a Bounded Field around Shirou's compound? It feels a little off, though," Rin said, looking around.

"I warded this building," Harry confirmed. "I'm pretty sure a Bounded Field and a ward is similar, though I can't be too sure. I'll be notified if anyone enters the boundary or if any spells is shot at the compound."

"Good. Make sure you keep aware of our surroundings," Rin said. "I don't want Assassin slitting my throat while I'm asleep."

Shirou snapped his fingers. "Hold on. Saber said the ending of the meeting wasn't peaceful, right? What happened? Did you manage to injure her?"

Harry shook his head. "Sadly, no. She didn't come here in person; she sent a solid illusion instead. Impressive magic, by the way. Oh, speaking of magic, Shirou, has your self-healing magic kicked in yet?"

Shirou glanced down at his arm. "I'm not sure. Maybe."

"You're due for a changing of your bandages anyway. Come on," Rin led Shirou to the bathroom to change his bandages.

Harry thinks he understands the basics of it now. Bandages are used to keep the wound clean and prevent further agitation to the wound. They can also be used to stop the blood flow, and pressure should be applied for maximum results.

He learns something new every day.

"Are we going to allow Shirou to continue going to school tomorrow?" Saber asked Harry, kneeling down on the purple mat.

Harry thought about it, taking a seat across from her. "If what Rin says is true, then we may have no choice but to let him go and solve the problem. I admit, I don't know much about 'Bounded Fields.'"

"Can we keep him back and let Rin solve it solo?" Saber was already shaking her head at her own suggestion. "No, she is an ally. A comrade. If the Servant comes back, then she may not be able to defend, and might be injured or even killed. Shirou has to stay with her. Two is better than one."

"How about we do a split? Shirou stays at home with you, and I go with Rin to help her," Harry suggested.

Saber hesitated before shaking her head once more. "No. If Berserker attacks, then I'm not entirely sure that I can hold him off without your help. And if Berserker's Master coordinates with Rider's Master, then they can do a divide-and-conquer, with Rider attacking Rin while you're called to Shirou's side to defend against Berserker."

"Could that happen? What are the odds?" Harry cocked his head. "Pretty good, actually. Nevermind."

"The only course of action left to take is to allow Shirou to go to school," Saber concluded. "I do not wish to involve any outsiders in the War, much less kill hundreds of innocent children in a school."

Harry concurred wholeheartedly.

"But now that we know Rider's Master likely also goes to Shirou's school, I can't simply give Shirou a rock and expect him to summon me when necessary. Because a nail through the head can happen in a fraction of the time it takes for the rock to even hit the ground."

"A nail through the head can what now?" Shirou was back. His arm was no longer bandaged- it looked like new.

"It's healed already? Brilliant. I was saying how we cannot let you go to school unaccompanied anymore. In the time it takes for you to smash the rock, Rider could drive a nail through your head." Harry explained.

"Yeah, we wouldn't want that. Shirou doesn't have much in his head, but he needs what is in there," Rin said with a straight face.

"Hey!" Shirou complained.

Rin broke out in a smile. "Kidding, kidding. Still, what do you propose to do?" She sat down next to Saber. Shirou walked over to the kettle, boiling some water.

"Ah," Saber smiled. Did she think of something then? "I think I know a way for Harry and I to be able to go to school with you two."

"Wait, really? How?" Rin asked, somewhat apprehensive.

Saber spread her hands. "Both Harry and I look rather young." Was that a way of calling Harry short?

Rin hummed in agreement. "You look stunning for someone who died centuries ago," A slight flinch from Saber, barely noticeable, but it was there. Was she still sensitive about her death? Harry made a mental note to not bring it up.

The legends did say that King Arthur's son Mordred killed him, after all. Death by a family member. . . even the thought of it made Harry's stomach curl.

Family is family. Family should protect each other, not hurt each other.

"And Harry looks young for someone who's 23 years old. In fact, if I didn't know that, I'll say that you're still a teenager. Your bone structure, body proportions, and skin quality all suggest you're a lot younger than you actually are."

Harry shrugged. "Wizards naturally age slower than muggles." And he aged a _lot_ slower than most wizards. Enough that Witch's Weekly ran an article saying how Harry is a veritable Fountain of Youth, and all someone needs to look young again is to get Harry's. . . liquid on them.

It was written by a new young eager journalist who was evidently a Harry Potter fangirl. It was her first time writing an article about Harry Potter.

And after Harry's conversation with her, it was her last.

"Hmm, that's fascinating. Anyway, Saber, continue?" Rin gestured for Saber to speak.

"Since we both look around your age, it would be difficult, but not impossible to go to school as a student."

Realization dawned on Harry. "You mean. . ."

Saber nodded. "Earlier you mentioned how you can Confund someone. I assume tricking the school faculty into thinking we're students wouldn't be too difficult?"

Harry ran some mental calculations. "I can definitely do it."

"Good. Our cover will be that we are transfer students from the great country of Britain. This way, we will be able to be by Shirou's side at all times."

Harry thought about it. "What about Fujimura? She's a teacher, and she's already met us."

"Irrelevant. Shirou only introduced us as 'Kiritsugu's friends.' He never specified our age. Just in case, however, we should enroll in the highest grade the school has to offer."

Harry smiled. "This plan is honestly crazy. I like it."

Shirou's mouth was wide open as he watched their exchange. "Hold on. You mean to say you're. . ."

Harry's smile grew even wider. "That's right. Saber and I are going back to school."

It's been too long.

Shirou bit his lip in consternation, walking over to the kettle and pouring tea into cups, which he then passed around. Harry, Rin, and Saber accepted it with a "Thank you."

Harry sipped from his cup. It was too bitter. "Shirou, do you have any sugar?"

"Hmm? I do. Do you want some?" Shirou pulled out a small bag filled with a white substance, scooping out the sugar with a small spoon.

Shirou dumped one spoonful into Harry's cup. "More?"

Harry nodded. "A couple more."

4 spoonfuls of sugar and one incredulous stare from Rin later, Harry was sipping contentedly from his cup. Thank goodness Harry didn't gain weight easily. Otherwise, he'd become as round as Slughorn. Then Harry frowned. "Why does it feel like we're missing someone though. . ."

A man dressed in a flowing red coat and black body armor materialized into existence, leaning against the wall behind Harry, who promptly jumped back, hands already glowing before he registered who it was.

"Miss me?" Archer's arms were crossed, and his head was angled downward, making it seem like he's contemplating life. It was a pretty cool pose.

"Forgot you, actually. When did you get here?" Harry asked.

"About a few minutes ago," Archer said.

This. . . this wasn't good. Harry's ward didn't sense Archer at all. Could it have been because he was in the Spirit Form?

He concentrated on the wards. Saber, Rin, Shirou, Harry, and Archer all registered.

"Archer, can you please return to Spirit Form real quick?"

Archer tilted his head questioningly. "Why?"

"Humor me," Harry said, eyes closed and deep in concentration.

Archer chuckled. "Alright then," and then he dematerialized.

The wards detected Harry, Shirou, Rin, and Saber. Archer wasn't on it.

Wait.

It's faint, extremely so. But Archer's there. The presence is barely above a squirrel, which is why Harry disregarded it the first time. But now he knows what to look for.

"Okay, that's enough. I have what I need," Harry said. "Hey, did you hear our plan?

Archer materialized again. "I did. I was on the roof keeping a lookout, but my hearing is very good."

Keeping a lookout. . . "Where were you when Rider attacked?" Why wasn't Archer helping Rin?

"I was at Rin's house. I was too far away to do anything. She ordered me to stay home today." Archer clarified. "Once I got there, you guys already had it under control."

Harry nodded. Understandable. He then stared intently at Archer.

Archer noticed it immediately. "What?"

"Hey, Saber, how old do you think he is?" Harry checked out Archer once more- that sounded wrong.

Harry observed Archer once more.

"Too old. Probably in his forties, maybe even older, with his white hair and all." Saber was also clinically analyzing Archer.

Archer paused. "I'm not sure whether or not to be offended you guys think I'm that old or relieved that you two can't rope me into your plan. I'm leaning towards relieved."

"You can stay on top of the roof, keeping guard and being on stand-by," Harry said. He looked at the clock. It was already about six.

Time passes quickly when you're yelling at someone.

"Saber, Harry, are you sure you're okay with going to school?" Shirou spoke up again. He looked concerned at the thought. Harry didn't know if he was concerned for them, or the students of the school.

"It's necessary to keep you safe."

"Yeah, I'm good with it."

"It's decided then," Shirou said. "How are you planning to 'Confund' the teachers into letting you attend school though?"

Harry held up his hand. Light was generated and then formed into the shape of the Confundus.

"The Confundus Charm is a useful charm that allows me to 'confuse' someone. I can plant false memories, make someone think they've already done something, and even mind-control them to an extent. In this case, I'm just going to make the teachers think that we're transfer students."

The Confundus Charm truly was an extremely versatile charm. It can even be used on inanimate object with limited sentience, like the Goblet of Fire. The more complex the suggestion, however, the more complex it is to cast.

Thankfully, muggles are inclined to believe what they're told, so it won't be too difficult.

"When we go to school tomorrow, if a teacher walks up to us, then I'll discreetly cast a Confundus charm. It would work."

And it should.

"That's kind of like hypnosis," Rin said. "Are there any limits?"

Harry shrugged. "Theoretically? As long as you're not asking the person to do something completely against their nature, it would work with enough power."

You can't Confund someone into killing others. It isn't strong enough to do that. Only something that takes away free will can do it, like the Imperius Curse.

Rin nodded, absorbing the information like a sponge. "Do you need clothes?"

Huh? Where did that come from?

Harry looked down to see if something was missing. Nothing was. All of his clothing were still on him and in one piece.

"No, I don't. Why do you ask?"

"We wear school uniforms. I can lend Saber some of my extras. You need to borrow some of Shirou's."

Harry stiffened. "Is it mandatory?"

Rin peered at him curiously. "Yes, it is. Why, is that a problem?"

Harry looked at what Shirou was wearing. Brown jacket, brown pants. It would clash _horribly _with his color scheme.

"Are you sure it's mandatory?" Harry almost begged, hoping to hear a negative.

"Yes," Harry's hopes were dashed on a rock then stomped upon repeatedly. "If you don't wear the uniform, then you'll stand out."

Between standing out and wearing that brown _monstrosity_, Harry would choose standing out every time.

"That's fine, I don't mind. We're foreign transfer students. I'm going to stand out anyways. If anyone asks, I'll just say I forgot to wear my uniform or something."

Rin looked amused. "Is wearing Shirou's clothes really that disgusting to you?"

Harry's reply was immediate and resolute. "Yes."

"I wash my clothes, you know," Shirou said reproachfully.

"No, it's not that. Brown clothes are just. . . They don't work with me."

"Right, well, if you guys don't need me anymore, I'll be returning to the roof." Archer cut in before dematerializing once more.

Harry watched him return to Spirit Form with fascination. He should learn more about it sometime soon.

"If you refuse to wear the uniform, I guess it's fine. Saber, do you have any issues?"

Saber shook her head. "Not at all. Your clothing is adequate."

Rin clapped her hands together. "It's decided then. You two are coming to school with us tomorrow."

"We need to establish a cover story," Harry said. "A credible one. I can't Confund every student that asks us questions."

"We are Kiritsugu's friends," Saber voiced. "We came over to visit Shirou, and are going to school with him. What else do we need?"

"Our backstory, for one. A good backstory is essential," Harry touched his chin. "Alright, I got it. Our school's name is Albus's School of Acquisition of Knowledge. We are both 17 years old. We knew Kiritsugu because. . ." Oh that's a huge hole in their story.

"That's a problem. Even if we are just a couple years older than Shirou, we would've been only kids when we met Kiritsugu." Saber realized. "Which means one of us has to be older than the other."

Rin eyed them both critically. "I have to say, Harry does look really young."

"Yeah, you're right. Harry, you do look my age," Shirou agreed. "Are you sure you're 23 years old?"

"My birthday is in 1981. Promise. Do I really look that young?" To be fair, they're correct. It's as if Harry hadn't aged since he was a teenager.

Even worse, not only has Harry not aged much, he also hasn't _grown_ at all. That's the part that irritated him the most.

Having to stare up to most people is honestly such a pain. Ron had grown a lot, so much that Harry had to crane his neck to be able to see eye-to-eye. Even Neville was a good half a foot taller than Harry. Harry truly was short for his age.

Combine that with his slight build and soft complexion, and Harry has been mistaken for a girl several times before, to Ron's amusement.

He was straight, though. No matter what the gossip magazines said.

"You look like our age," Rin said. "No joke, you do."

Harry sighed. "So, I gather that I'm going to be the one going to school with you two then?"

Rin nodded. "That would be best. In which case, for your backstory, Saber is Kiritsugu's friend and you're Saber's. . ."

"Brother. No, cousin. We don't look alike enough to be considered siblings." Harry brushed a strand of white hair out of his face. "It's a plan then. Tomorrow, I will go to school with you and Shirou as a transfer student while Saber rests at home, and if trouble arises, I can Disapparate back and grab Saber like I did today."

Harry hesitated. "Saber, you don't mind temporarily being called Saber Potter, do you?"

"Not at all," Saber said, expressing no discontentment. Harry was relieved. Some purebloods Harry knew would be extremely offended if asked to take on a new last name, even temporarily.

He knew that Rin would sooner stab himself in the stomach and go without solid food for an entire month than be called "Ron Malfoy." He mentally snickered at the thought.

Their conversation was interrupted by three knocks on the compound door.

Harry and Saber tensed. Harry relaxed a second after. It wasn't the sharp commanding knock of Caster. The rhythm and power of the knocks were of a much more reserved quality.

"Who is that?" Rin stood up in a flash and reached into her jacket, presumably to grab a jewel.

Shirou held up his hands in a calming gesture, standing up once more and walking into the hallway. "Relax, it's just Sakura. She always comes around this time."

"Oh right. She's sleeping over." Assured that there was no danger, Rin sat back down, kneeling on the purple mat once more.

Harry detected two additional presences crossing into the warded area. It must be Sakura and Fujimura, then.

"Fujimura is with her. They're both here. I'll cast the Confundus on Fujimura when she comes. Any last objections to the plan?" Harry asked.

"No."

"No objections."

Harry grinned deviously. "Project Back-To-School, begin!"

Saber's eyebrows rose in confusion.

Harry turned a little red. "It's a habit left over from my Marauder days with Sirius. It's tradition."

Rin was serene as always. "Of course, of course."

And she, Saber, and Harry kneeled on the purple mats, backs perfectly straight and sipping from their cups of tea, ready to enact their plan.

* * *

**In case if you guys can't tell, my favorite spell is the Killing Curse. **

**Wards and Bounded Fields aren't actually the same, by the way. Some are similar to each other, but there are a lot of differences. Harry just doesn't know all of the differences yet.**

**Harry's stalker is Altrouge, the Ninth Dead Apostle Ancestor. She approached him head-on and told him her name because she's bored and wanted to amuse herself by seeing Harry's reaction. The wiki doesn't have much on her, so that means I have a lot more creative liberty when writing her, which is always a plus.**

**This chapter was mainly setting up the events to come. After this, there should be a lot more fight scenes and interaction between Harry and the other Servants, which I'm looking forward to writing. I've been neglecting Lancer too much.**

**I think that's it for now. My free time is almost nonexistent now, which is why this chapter took so long to write. **

**Thank you all for reading, and please review :)**

**euphoric**


	5. Education

Kotomine Kirei silently stared off into nothing, thinking over Lancer's information.

There was an unknown player on the field. The Holy Grail had not summoned him; as the overseer of the War, Kotomine knew that much. And yet, the Command Seals that bound him were undeniable.

Even worse, not only was he completely unknown, he was powerful too. From what Lancer had said, the man, "Harry Potter," had evaded Lancer's Gae Bolg through an instantaneous teleportation. Even Lancer's godlike senses couldn't detect any delay- a feat unheard of in both ancient and modern times.

Spatial Transportation could be managed through magecraft. Pure Spatial Transference is in the realm of Magic.

A Sorcerer. A user of True Magic. One that was bound to Shirou Emiya, the son of Kiritsugu, a survivor of the Fuyuki Fire.

Harry Potter would be a formidable enemy. Kotomine could think of nine ways alone of absolutely _abusing_ instantaneous teleportation. Dirty tricks, baits, retreats. . . they'd all be so _simple_ when able to teleport at any time.

That wasn't the end of the mystery of Harry Potter.

Kotomine remembered a time when he'd thrown himself into learning everything about God. He remembered believing that God was his only path to salvation. He'd fervently hoped that religion would be enough to turn him into a normal human that could feel emotions.

He was no longer like that. Kotomine accepts and indeed _embraces_ the fact that he revels in the pain of others. He feels happiness when watching others suffer. In this world and society, he is warped and flawed.

Nevertheless, while his faith has certainly diminished, his memory of God's words has not. He had memorized the Bible. And Harry Potter seems to be _frighteningly _similar to someone the Bible had described.

Kotomine couldn't be sure. It was extremely unlikely that Harry Potter was this person. But on the off chance he was. . .

Then Harry Potter would bring an untold amount of destruction and devastation and _pain and suffering _into the world.

And if Harry Potter was, then Kotomine would support him the entire way.

He needed information before he could act, though. It would look really foolish if he turned out to be wrong.

"Lancer," He called, his voice echoing through the empty church. A few seconds passed. Then a man in blue materialized into existence, red spear held behind the back.

"What do you want?" Kotomine didn't like that tone. He can put up with it, though. He had put up with a lot worse from the King of Heroes.

"Change of plans. Ignore the other Servants and Masters. Observe Harry Potter instead," Kotomine spoke in a tone without any inflection.

Lancer raised his eyebrows. "The Sorcerer? If you insist. Am I allowed to make contact?"

Kotomine hesitated. While he'd like to find out more about the Sorcerer's powers, he also couldn't risk having Lancer die this early on.

"Try not to. If it is unavoidable, you may, but attempt to retreat. You are no match for someone who can dodge all of your strikes, even your supposedly 'undodgeable' one."

Lancer scowled at the reminder. "I don't even know how he did that. My Gae Bolg freezes the mana in the air, so he shouldn't have been able to draw in the necessary mana to complete the teleportation."

"If he does discover you, however," Kotomine carried on, ignoring Lancer, "and he does not attack, befriend him."

Lancer narrowed his eyes. "I'm not sure I heard you correctly. Did you say _befriend him_?"

Kotomine shrugged. "At the very least, ingratiate yourself with him. Try to get him to reveal more of his abilities without harming you in the process. I need all the information I can get."

If Harry Potter truly was on Shirou Emiya's side, then it's inevitable that Harry Potter would end up fighting Gilgamesh- assuming the Sorcerer wasn't already dead. Kotomine didn't think it was possible for him to be killed by other Servants, though. Instantaneous unblockable teleportation was truly an extremely versatile and frankly overpowered ability to have. Retreats could be made at a whim.

If Harry Potter were to fight the King of Heroes. . . Kotomine honestly didn't know who would win. One the one hand, Gilgamesh was the strongest Servant to ever exist. His Gate of Babylon overwhelms and completely overpowers his enemies. On the other hand, Harry Potter was a _Sorcerer_.

Kotomine had heard of the Wizard Marshall before. If Harry Potter was even a fraction of his power, then he would be a force to be reckoned with. Especially since teleportation countered Gilgamesh's projectile attacks.

Which is why Kotomine needed information. Gilgamesh might not listen to Kotomine, but at least he'd have a general grasp of Harry Potter's fighting style. And that is enough to change the tide of a battle.

"Fine," Lancer said, turning around and walking away once more. "I'm off, then."

A blur of speed and he was gone.

Kotomine waited a couple moments to be sure Lancer isn't coming back before speaking out to the empty room.

"What do you think?"

Gilgamesh melted out of the shadows, lounging on a seat. A helm was in his hands, evidently just taken off his head. Kotomine recognized it as Gilgamesh's go-to treasure when he wanted to be utterly concealed and hidden from view.

His golden hair seemed to shine under the moonlight, and his red eyes possessed a small amount of amusement. He wore a black biker jacket and a white shirt underneath along with long black pants.

Kotomine recognized Gilgamesh as undeniably handsome. But then again, Gilgamesh was part god. It's impossible for him not to be.

Gilgamesh stared at where Lancer had ran off, idly twirling the helm on his finger before it vanished in a flash of golden light. A small smile tugged at his lips. It was not a kind smile.

"What a rabid attack dog. If the Sorcerer truly does decide to fight him, I have no doubt Lancer would lose spectacularly."

And there was the arrogance and superiority Kotomine was used to. "He may not be on your level, but he's still a powerful Servant. I believe he can survive." Harry Potter didn't seem to be the aggressive type.

Gilgamesh stood up from the seat, strolling out into the aisle. "I do wonder what Harry Potter is. Perhaps he possesses divine power within him."

"Do you think you can take him?" Kotomine asked as a formality. He already knew how Gilgamesh would answer.

Gilgamesh's eyes flashed dangerously. "Are you doubting my skills?" A foreboding aura filled the room. "You believe a lowly mongrel can defeat me, the King of Heroes?"

Kotomine merely raised his hand in a placating gesture. "Are _you_ doubting my faith in you? I am well aware that there is no possible way for Harry Potter- or anyone else- to defeat you. My question was but a formality, one that must be asked with the answer already known."

Gilgamesh regarded Kotomine with an unrecognizable look in his eyes. Then he let out a few chuckles. "I knew there was a reason why I liked you."

Kotomine chuckled as well. The relationship between him and Gilgamesh was a strange one. They were good acquaintances, good allies. He wouldn't go as far to call them good friends, as in order to be a friend, they must be equals first, a title Gilgamesh seemed to only have bestowed to one other.

He could, however, say with certainty that he's Gilgamesh's most beloved human. A title most other humans may find demeaning and even humiliating, but Kotomine doesn't feel such petty emotions.

"If the Sorcerer fought against me," Gilgamesh began, growing completely serious, "then the results are obvious. I would win, and he would die." He said this a matter-of-fact tone, leaving no room for doubt.

"And am I to assume that, since your word is absolute, the future is already set in one path, a path you have decided?" Kotomine asked dryly.

Gilgamesh smirked. "Now you get it."

Yes, their relationship was a strange one. Gilgamesh was the one to teach Kotomine how to fully embrace his warped side, and Kotomine provides Gilgamesh with amusement. It was a strange relationship, but it was definitely a good one. Kotomine couldn't think of anyone else that would be as good a partner as Gilgamesh.

"And if he teleports away from you?" Kotomine crossed his arms, anticipating Gilgamesh's reply. He honestly couldn't think of a single way to counter teleportation.

Gilgamesh inclined his head, a royal version of a shrug. "If you catch a small fish and it flops back into the ocean, would you dive in to get it back?"

Kotomine nodded, unconvinced. Thankfully, a decade of hiding his true emotions around Gilgamesh meant that Gilgamesh didn't sense it at all. If Gilgamesh knew that Kotomine doubted his absolute victory, then Kotomine would die a second time.

Gilgamesh's red eyes seemed to glow in the dim lighting. "I do hope that he can provide me with some amusement. I haven't fought against a practitioner of True Magic in quite some time."

"And if he proves to be extremely powerful? If he has an ace up his sleeves?" Kotomine uncrossed his arms and turned his head to stare out the window.

"It doesn't matter what ace he has," Gilgamesh smiled. "It doesn't matter what power he possesses. It doesn't matter if he actualizes a Mystery the world has never seen before."

Kotomine's gaze was fixated on the moon. "And why's that?" Gilgamesh's smile became positively predatory.

"Because, no matter what he does, he will be _bound_ by Enkidu, _overwhelmed_ by the Gate of Babylon, and _destroyed_ by Ea."

XxX

Harry Potter felt a sneeze coming up mid-sip. He suppressed it quickly, holding his breath until he felt the sensation go away. He lowered the cup and sighed in relief.

Spraying tea everywhere would be an unsightly mess.

Slowly, he could pick up voices coming from the hallways.

"I'm telling you, Sakura, you don't have to knock every time. Just come right in, I even gave you a key." Shirou had an exasperated tone, as if this wasn't the first time he'd conveyed the message.

"It's alright, senpai. I don't mind," the soft voice of Sakura reached Harry's ears.

"Oh, Sakura, you're too polite," And that was Fujimura. "I don't remember the last time I've knocked."

A scoff could be heard. "Yeah, you just barge in every day and eat my food."

"It's your duty as my younger brother to provide me with deliciousness every day. Don't complain," came the prompt reply.

Fujimura, Sakura, and Shirou walked into the living room.

Harry raised a hand in greeting. "Good evening, Sakura, Fujimura."

"G-good evening, Harry," Sakura truly was polite. Harry approved.

"You're still here?" Fujimura squinted at Harry suspiciously. Harry most certainly did not approve. "You're not going to try to sleep with us again, are you?"

Harry summoned all the mental willpower he had and _slammed _down his Occlumency barriers to prevent a blush from rising to his face. He succeeded. His face remained impassive with a questioning air to it.

"I don't follow. Rest assured, however, that I shall be rooming with Shirou." Could they tell? Harry hoped not.

Fujimura gave him one last suspicious look before relenting. "Okay, fine."

"Fujimura, it's good to see you," Saber greeted.

"Fujimura-sensei, good evening," Rin said with a polite smile on her face.

Fujimura mood switched instantly. "Ayyyeee you're here! How are you girls doing?"

Harry blinked. He got the feeling Fujimura liked him less than Saber and Rin. Just a small feeling.

"I am doing well," Saber pushed her cup, now empty, away from her.

"Did he do anything weird to you today?" Fujimura asked in concern.

Was she talking about _him?! _If it weren't for the fact that Harry was still using Occlumency, his jaw undoubtedly would've slackened.

Harry dismissed his Occlumency. There was no use for it anymore. He ignored the small rush of sensation when he released his barriers.

No sane wizard would employ Occlumency all the time. Even Voldemort only activated his barriers when there was an active Legilimency attack being performed on him. Not that anyone would be foolish enough to dive into the Dark Lord's mind.

Besides Harry, of course.

Normally, humans broadcast emotions to everyone around them. People can tell if you're happy or sad or angry or bored.

Empathy is a branch of mind magic that involves interpreting deeply the broadcasted emotions.

Legilimency takes it a step further. Instead of receiving emotions, the wizard actively enters another's mind and reads their thoughts and memories with impunity.

Of course, it's much more complicated than that. The mind is a many-layered thing. Not to mention how only a small amount of thoughts contain words- most people don't have an active running monologue in their head about everything they think.

Thoughts are composed of images, feelings, memories, impressions, and even music. On top of that, someone may begin a thought and arrive at the conclusion without actively thinking about the middle part. Interpreting the mess is difficult. But once a wizard has mastered it, mind reading becomes possible.

Occlumency involves first clearing the mind then suppressing all emotions and encrypting thoughts, and even creating a faux mental surface. The mind is first cleared of all stray thoughts and memories so the wizard can concentrate fully. Emotion is then suppressed and thoughts are scrambled and encrypted through magic so nobody else can understand the thoughts.

More skilled Occlumens can create a second layer of thoughts, cloaking and concealing the true inner thoughts. This requires a great amount of mental willpower however, as the fake thoughts and memories must carry the same amount of connotations and "links" to other memories as true thoughts must have. Once a wizard has mastered this, however, then it's virtually impossible to discern their true inner thoughts and feelings.

Imaginary barriers can be used to streamline the process. Visualizing that there is a barrier blocking your thoughts from others facilitates the process by triggering a sequence of processes to occur.

For example, if someone thinks of an apple, it will trigger several other thought processes. The person may draw up an image and remember the taste. Conversely, if a person thinks of a barrier being slammed down, it will subconsciously trigger the mind to clear itself, suppress emotions, and encrypt thoughts.

The entire process must be aided with magic- muggles cannot properly utilize Occlumency.

To get a wizard _out_ of the head, there are a variety of ways to do it. The most effective is to overwhelm them with an emotion or memory of some kind. The fight with Berserker the other night was the perfect example. Anger, rage, wrath, hate, regret, sadness and desolation, all condensed into one big sledgehammer attack had forced Harry out of Berserker's mind.

Harry personally liked to use the memory of his first real fight against Dumbledore. That was the first time Harry truly felt insignificant; it was like he was a piece of dust standing against the cosmos itself.

In a battle between a master Legilimens and a Master Occlumens, the Occlumens would always win. After all, Legilimency involves sending a part of their mind to invade, while Occlumency involves using the entire mind to defend.

There is a drawback to Occlumency, however. It's a _pain_ to maintain. Imagine concentrating hard so no errant thoughts pops up. Then imagine suppressing all emotions, being an empty slate all the time. Then imagine having to encrypt the thoughts, which is like thinking in a language you don't know but the magic lets you understand anyways. On top of that, imagine creating a secondary layer of personality, then separating your train of thought between the two layers.

It's a massive pain. Especially since having Occlumency active at all times doesn't actually do anything if nobody is trying to gain access to your thoughts. As a result, Harry, like all the other wizards, keeps his Occlumency deactivated most of the time.

He had no idea how Snape was able to keep Occlumency active at all times while spying on Voldemort. He may despise the man, but Snape undoubtedly had one of the strongest mental wills of the century.

Anyway, as Harry imagined his barriers collapsing into dust, he relaxed and braced for the impact of all the emotions and unfiltered thoughts slamming into his mind once more. It was no more than a small rush of sensation by this point. The mind can get used to many things.

Saber knit her brows together in confusion. "Did he do anything weird to me today? Of course not. Harry wouldn't-"

Perfect timing. "She's my cousin! Why would I do weird things to her?" Harry interrupted, making a couple wild hand gestures to accentuate his point.

Sakura's eyes widened and Fujimura choked on air. "She's your _what_ now? Since when?"

Thank goodness. They believed him. That was one hurdle overcome.

"Since I was born. What do you mean by 'since when?'' Harry was pulling out all of his acting skills for this. After encountering Voldemort every night for the past three years, at least _some_ of Voldemort's superb acting skills must've rubbed off on Harry.

Fujimura pointed at Saber. "She's your cousin?" She had an extremely skeptical look on her face.

Harry sighed. Perhaps he was wrong when he thought that they had believed him. "Yes. We are cousins."

Fujimura switched moods at once. A bright, bubbly grin made it onto her face. "Oh that's cool! I didn't know that."

Was. . . was Harry's repeated insistence enough to convince Fujimura? He was fully prepared to bring out blank photographs charmed to look like the real thing to convince Fujimura. But it appears it was unneeded.

Huh. Fujimura really was quite simple-minded. No offense intended, of course.

"So, who's older?" Fujimura asked, carefully surveying both. "Nevermind, I take that back. It's obvious: you're the younger one."

Harry smiled. "That's right. I'm only 17." A completely made up number that Harry hoped fell within the range of high school students ages.

Sakura's hand flew to her mouth. "You're only a year older than me?"

Harry nodded. "Indeed I am."

Fujimura's eyes narrowed again suspiciously. "You should still be in school then. Why are you here? Is it vacation yet in your country?"

It's as if she just handed him the prompt on a silver platter. This was easy. Too easy.

"I'm actually a transfer student. I'll be going with Shirou to school tomorrow."

Fujimura nodded, taking it in. Then she froze. Oh dear, it appears she'd absorbed all of the information.

"You're going to our school tomorrow?!" She didn't exactly scream, but the volume was definitely up there.

Harry only smiled happily. "Yup. Hold on, you're a teacher, correct? There's a chance you'll be teaching me tomorrow."

Fujimura gaped at Harry for a second before her gaze turned over to Saber. "Don't tell me. You're also a student?"

Saber regally shook her head. "No, I'm older than Harry by several years. I'm the daughter of a friend of Kiritsugu's, and I've met him a few times when I was younger."

"Several years. . ." Fujimura trailed off. Harry winced but smoothed his features a nanosecond afterward. Fujimura's going to call Saber's bluff. She had to have-

Fujimura clapped her hands together. "Whatever. I'm hungry. Shirou, make me some food."

She didn't call it? Huh. Harry raised his cup once more and took a sip, allowing himself to celebrate for just a moment. He didn't even need to Confund Fujimura.

Shirou started to walk towards the kitchen but Sakura stopped him. "Senpai, it's alright. I can cook tonight."

"Are you sure? You cooked breakfast too," Shirou said concernedly.

Sakura smiled warmly. "Don't worry about it. I'm fine." With those words, she turned and walked into the kitchen area.

Fujimura snapped her fingers. "There's good news. Mitsuzuri was found a while ago."

Shirou started. "They found Mitsuzuri? Wait, how do you know?"

"Ryudou asked me to tell you. He said her memory is a bit jumbled, but there's no visible trauma, and her condition isn't life threatening."

Oh, how Harry loved the ignorance of muggles. They only look at the surface, and when that doesn't work, they cut into bodies like savages.

"Isn't that great news, senpai?" Sakura said over her shoulder from where she was chopping vegetables.

"Yeah," Shirou replied with a smile. Then it dimmed as he undoubtedly remembered just _who_ it was causing these incidents to happen. Once again, Harry thanked his luck for giving him a Master who possessed empathy and compassion. This situation could've been a lot worse.

"Hey, Sakura, can I ask you something?" Shirou practically demanded.

Sakura fully turned to look at him with a questioning glance.

"It's not safe at night, so I want you to spend the night here again, okay?"

Sakura, speechless, only stared blankly at Shirou.

"Sorry. Am I putting you on the spot?" Shirou gave a small bow of apology.

"No. Um, I'll take you up on your kind offer." Sakura smiled before turning around again and resuming her cooking.

"What classes are you taking?" Fujimura asked Harry.

Damn. It's been. . . actually, Harry's never even _been_ to a muggle school before. He trained with Dumbledore at Hogwarts from when he was five until he was eleven when he then officially joined the ranks of Hogwarts students. And before he was five years old. . . Harry doesn't really remember that time very well.

"The same classes as Shirou, I guess," And if Harry didn't know the actual names of the classes, that's alright. "I don't really have a preference for a specific class."

"How good are you at English?" Fujimura took a seat next to Shirou.

"Extremely good," Harry replied in perfect English. "I grew up in Britain, you see." Scotland to be specific, but Harry didn't want to go into details.

Fujimura pumped a fist in victory. "Yes!"

Harry tilted his head, confused. "What?"

Fujimura's eyes were shining with desire. "That means that I can have you teach the class while I sleep in the back!"

An incredulous silence filled the room. Even Sakura momentarily stopped stirring to look over her shoulders.

Fujimura coughed under all of the judging gazes. "Not that I would do that. Since it's unethical as a teacher."

Harry only shook his head amusedly.

XxX

Dinner, like before, was mostly a silent affair. Once they had finished eating, Shirou collected the plates and began cleaning them.

"How's life in Britain?" Sakura was now sitting down next to Rin. They both lifted their cups in an eerily similar fashion and took a sip.

Saber also sat forward a little bit, evidently also waiting for the answer. Oh no. With _King Arthur_ right there. . .

"It's eventful. Not a day goes by without something interesting happening," That was a light way of putting it. Harry counted at least 8 assassination attempts last month alone. You'd think they'd give up after the first few failures, but. . . criminals may be many things but undetermined they are not.

Everyone on the wrong side of the moral spectrum wanted Harry dead. They wanted to kill him before he became too strong. If Harry remembered correctly, the last assassination attempt on Dumbledore was back in the mid-fifties. After that, everyone gave up because Dumbledore was simply too strong. Harry didn't blame them. Fighting Dumbledore was _scary_.

"The people are nice," Okay, that wasn't exactly true. _Some_ of the people were nice. Most were annoying idiots that wanted Harry to solve all of their problems.

Just because Harry saved Magical Britain from destruction didn't mean he wanted to save an eighty-year old man from eviction. It sounded cruel, but Harry couldn't justifiably help everybody with every problem they have. It's a pity the general populace didn't understand that.

"The surroundings are beautiful." The surroundings untouched by muggles, that is. But more and more areas are slowly being polluted and scarred by muggles. Structures that mar the picturesque lands are being erected, forests are being cut down, waste is dumped in rivers, factories are built on grassfields.

"All in all, it's amazing." Britain _sucked._ Thank goodness Harry didn't have to stay in Britain all the time. He'd probably go insane if he had to remain in that country every single day. Being at Hogwarts was fine. Being in the Magical British society was hell.

"I miss Britain a lot." Harry hasn't had this much fun in _years_. Meeting new people, discovering new magic, becoming _friends_ with new people, _fighting_ alongside competent partners. . . it's awesome. Does Harry miss his friends? Yeah. But Britain itself, along with all of its citizens? Not a chance in hell.

Rin hummed. "Is it any different from here?"

Harry twisted his hand. "Ehh, not really. Japan's a bit more. . . crowded, but other than that, it's pretty much the same."

Minus the fact that he liked it several magnitudes more than Britain. There was a reason why Harry traveled the world vanquishing evil and saving lives instead of becoming an Auror or something. Harry only went back to Britain to meet up with his friends and Dumbledore.

Shirou walked back. "I'm done cleaning."

Saber stood up also. "Walk with me, Shirou. I have things I need to discuss with you."

Perplexed, Shirou's eyes met Harry's. _Do you know what she's doing?_

Harry gave a slight shrug. _Nope. Good luck._

Saber stood up and walked out, clearly expecting Shirou to follow. After a small pause, Shirou walked after her, leaving Harry alone with Rin, Sakura, and Fujimura.

"That's a beautiful cloak," Sakura said. "Where did you get it from?"

Harry looked down at his white cloak. It was ankle-length, with a hood that was currently down. Silver patterns ran across the back.

"It was custom-made." Harry's cloak was a gift from Dumbledore. It was composed entirely of synthetic fibers. Harry didn't like wearing clothes made from organic material like cotton or fur because there'll always be a small amount of magical resistance present. It doesn't affect normal spellcasting, but it certainly does affect spells cast _on_ the clothes.

Charming and transfiguring clothes is a strategy that many wizards utilize. There's nothing more satisfying turning your cloak into a giant flexible scythe and watching it mow down enemies in front of you. Voldemort had once cursed his cloak so that anyone other than him who touched it would start decomposing immediately- his countermeasure to the monks sent to detain him (the ICW was getting desperate.)

All the high-level wizards Harry knew didn't wear organic clothing of any kind. Dragonhide armor, Acromantula silk robes, and other "luxurious" items all had magical resistance that could interfere with transfigurations and charms, interference that could be deadly in a fight. Even normal material like cotton and fur can interfere with a few select spells that require absolute precision.

Both Voldemort and Dumbledore used synthetic fibers to create their clothes. Dumbledore just took it a step further and. . . customized his robes.

Harry was once asked by a reporter where Dumbledore bought his robes. Harry had laughed his head off at the question. What sane shop would sell the robes Dumbledore wore? They'd go bankrupt within the first month.

Sakura smiled. "It looks really pretty."

Hold up.

"This isn't supposed to be pretty. This is a cloak that's meant to instill awe and admiration. It's a cloak suited for battle. It's not pretty," Harry protested.

Sakura giggled. "If you say so, Harry."

Rin leaned forward, a teasing smile on her lips. "I do have to say, you look really. . . feminine in that cloak. Especially combined with your hair."

Harry's hand automatically flew to his head. "What's wrong with my hair?"

"Nothing, nothing."

Harry touched a single strand of white hair. He had bangs, originally grown out to hide his scar. His hair wasn't long at all- neck length- but it was rather wild, as if Harry had just ran through a tornado. He didn't understand what Rin was talking about.

Fujimura snorted. "And exactly what battle is this cloak suited for? An anime convention?"

_Battles that decide the fate of a country_, Harry wanted to answer but couldn't. Secrecy certainly had its downfalls sometimes.

Rin saw the opening and took it with no mercy. "Yeah, Harry, what battles? The only battles I can see you fighting is your battle to get a life."

_That conniving little- _Harry knew that Rin knew exactly what battles he partakes in.

Unable to give an honest reply, Harry could only sigh and say, "Nevermind."

People these days- no. People these _worlds_. Back in the Wizarding World, just the sight of Harry's cloak was enough to inspire hope and determination in a losing battle.

Harry stood up. "I'll go see what Saber and Shirou are doing."

"Wait," Fujimura suddenly said when Harry was halfway across the threshold.

Harry turned back. "Yes?"

"I'm being serious. Just teach English for one day. I need a break. Please?"

Harry didn't even dignify that with a reply, instead shutting the door softly behind him.

XxX

THWACK.

Harry winced as he stepped into the dojo. That must've hurt a lot.

Shirou landed on the ground a solid 10 feet away from where he was hit. He rubbed his shoulder where it would undoubtedly be purple the next morning had Shirou not possessed self-healing magic. "Oww. . ."

Saber's expression was serene and calm as always. She held her wooden sword at the ready, fully prepared to attack and defend from any angle.

"That was a bit harsh, don't you think?" Harry asked amusedly. "Shirou's literally less than a novice. Go easy on him."

"I know, right?" Shirou agreed.

"Did your master go easy on you when he trained you?" Saber asked rhetorically.

Harry thought of his training with Dumbledore. A shiver went through him at the memory.

_Harry, my boy-_

Harry banished the thought.

"You're right. Next time, hit him harder," Harry amended.

"Hey!" Shirou yelled, betrayed.

Harry shrugged. "You need to grow stronger. You're too weak. I have to confess, I'm surprised you decided to learn sword skills instead of magecraft."

"Yeah, well, I'm not that good at magecraft. I can only use Reinforcement."

Right. In terms of skill level, Shirou was pretty much a first year- probably even less.

"Alright then. Saber, hit him where it hurts so he learns the lesson better."

"Understood."

"Dude!"

THWACK

XxX

One entertaining training (read: beating) session later, Shirou went off to take a shower and recuperate.

The grin that had been on Harry's face vanished.

"He's too weak. Against the other Servants, he doesn't stand a chance" Harry stated.

"Agreed. To be fair, in most if not all cases, Masters are weaker than Servants. But Shirou here is weaker than all the other Masters as well." Saber placed the wooden sword back onto the rack.

"He's getting better though. I could literally see him improving with every bout. At this rate, do you think he can become a threat? I'm not very proficient at assessing beginner sword skills."

"Shirou may never stand on our level, but I believe that soon, with enough hard work, he can not die instantly when fighting the other Masters and Servants."

Not die instantly when- Harry chuckled. "Fair enough. Cleaning charm?"

"I'm not sweating."

Harry did a double-take at that and looked her over. She told the truth: there was still not a single drop of sweat on her feature. "What?! You were battering Shirou relentlessly for like an hour and a half! Did Shirou seriously suck _that_ much?"

Saber hesitated. "I wouldn't put it that way, but essentially, yes."

"Damn. We need to get him stronger fast."

The question is _how_. Harry couldn't think of a single thing he can teach Shirou. It's all up to Saber to get Shirou to an appropriate level.

"I will be training him every night. Hopefully that will be enough."

Harry nodded and began leaving. "Oh, and Saber?"

"Yes?"

"I really liked that one parry where you redirected Shirou's sword into himself. It was hilarious."

"Thank you."

XxX

"Everything. Hurts." Shirou groaned out, lying on the futon.

"Does it now?" Harry asked innocently.

Shirou glared at Harry. "After what you said to Saber, I swear she hit twice as hard."

Harry snickered. "Yeah, sorry about that." He wasn't sorry at all. Saber seemed to know all sorts of creative ways of making sure Shirou ended up on the ground in pain. All without breaking a sweat.

The sliding door opened revealing Rin standing there, inadvertently giving Shirou, who was still lying on the futon, a view of thigh and a little bit more. He bolted upright, cheeks flushing a bright red. "Rin!"

Harry nodded in greeting from where he was sitting down on his own futon. "Yo, what's up."

"Hey Harry. Shirou, can I take the guest house? I don't sleep very well when there are others in the same room as me," Rin said.

Shirou nodded furiously. "Yeah, go ahead, take it."

Rin smiled. "Thanks a lot."

And she left, shutting the sliding door behind her.

Harry looked at Shirou. "I can't believe you have a guest _house_. Just how rich are you?"

"Not that rich. I inherited this compound." The blush was starting to cool from Shirou's face.

Harry nodded before a mischievous glint entered his eyes. Channeling his inner Sirius, he asked, "Did you enjoy the view?"

Shirou spluttered, his face becoming even redder than before. "Wha-. . . no- Harry!"

Harry laughed, lying down and pulling the blanket over his body. "Good night, Shirou."

"But- that's not. . ." Shirou sighed defeatedly, giving up. "Good night, Harry."

XxX

"In all my years of existence, I have never met someone as _stupid_ and _short-sighted_ and _irresponsible_ as you."

Harry groaned. "You know, you were actually somewhat bearable last night. While it's reassuring to know that some things never change, I actually _do_ want you to change."

Voldemort reclined on his golden throne. It looked out of place amongst the grass clearing and forest surrounding them. Harry doubted Voldemort cared though.

"Do you or do you not recall me telling you that an ancient darkness was observing you? Do you recall me telling you to be careful?"

Harry scowled, snapping his fingers and creating a soft comfortable full-back white leather chair for him to sit on. "Of course I do. Why?"

"I sensed the same darkness today. Guess who it came from?" Voldemort sneered.

Harry's mind raced. Identify the new variables. Rin, Fujimura, Sakura, Shirou, and Archer were all constants. The only new person he'd met this day was. . .

The blood drained from Harry's face. "Altrouge."

An honest-to-Merlin light bulb emitting a bright yellow glow materialized above Harry's head. Voldemort clapped slowly in mock admiration. "Give this man a prize. He figured it out."

No way. There's no way. "You're telling me that Altrouge was the ancient darkness you sensed during my fight with Berserker?"

Voldemort nodded. "It was extremely faint. I could barely sense it even with her right next to you."

"That's impossible," Harry shook his head. "My intuition said that she wasn't dangerous."

Harry's intuition has saved his life too many times to count. When Harry couldn't trust his friends, when Harry couldn't trust his surroundings, when Harry couldn't even trust his senses, the only thing he could trust was his intuition.

It has never lied to him before. It has never failed him before. In Harry's meeting with Altrouge, his intuition didn't scream out at him, didn't give him a bad feeling like it did so many times before.

"Then your intuition is wrong. Not surprising, I must say. It is _your_ intuition, after all."

Harry ignored the taunt, instead thinking back on the meeting. He'd been initially paranoid, yes, but that was the logical part of his brain throwing out doubt. His subconscious, the part of his mind that analyzed _everything, _the place where his intuition originates from,had no such doubts and uncertainty.

If Altrouge truly was an enemy, then Harry had to be very, very, _very_ wary of her. Anyone who could fool Harry's intuition. . . He didn't even have a comparison. It's never happened before.

Harry shrugged. "Whatever. What's done is done. It's not like I told her anything sensitive."

Voldemort snorted. "Right. You didn't tell her anything at all. Besides divulging a branch of magic that this world may not have."

What is Voldemort talking about- Harry's eyebrows rose. "You don't think this world has transfiguration?!"

"I do not know. You lack information and as such, you shouldn't be revealing the cards up your sleeves," Voldemort cautioned.

"But _transfiguration_?" Harry asked incredulously.

"You never know. Apparition is considered normal in our world but a miracle here."

Damn. Harry hadn't thought of that.

"Oh well. It's not like it matters anyway. I only showed her summoning, disarming, stunning, Apparition, and told her about transfiguration. Not that big of a deal," Harry dismissed.

Then Harry paused, a thought striking him. "Hold on. Why are you even lecturing me on this?! Back when we were at war you _loved_ to monologue your plans and explain the ingenuity of your spells and strategies! I literally learned more from you in our battles than I did in all 7 years of Defense Against the Dark Arts!" And what a sad truth that was.

Voldemort looked away sheepishly. "That's different. When I revealed everything to you, I clearly had the upper hand. There was no harm in telling you information since you were too weak to utilize it properly."

"I killed you," Harry reminded Voldemort with a smug smile.

"Yet here I am, still talking to you," Voldemort returned with a smirk.

Harry opened his mouth to speak but Voldemort cut him off. "I'm serious, though. Stop divulging information about your skills to random people you meet on the streets. Literally, in Altrouge's case."

"Still," Harry reasoned. "You really think knowledge that I can use transfiguration is enough to decide a battle?"

"It gives them time to prepare and think of ways to counter transfiguration. It's what I did with your Fading, after all," Voldemort's eyes glazed over, lost in happy memories. "Oh, the look on your face when you realized my plan. It was delicious."

Harry's eyes glazed over too, lost in memories he preferred would stay forgotten. "I still can't believe you did that. It was disgusting, immoral, and dishonorable."

"In other words, something that I would do."

"Exactly."

"To be honest, I would be a lot more mad if it had actually _worked_." Harry stood up from his chair. It dematerialized, shattering into sparks.

Voldemort narrowed his eyes. "If only it did. I've said it before and I'm going to say it again. Your Fading is bullshit."

Harry laughed. "You're just not good enough, I guess."

Voldemort crossed his arms. "Do you want my help or not?"

Harry instantly grew serious. "What is it? Did you think of a way to acquire a strong wand core? Have you created a plan that will allow us to win the war unilaterally? A method to allow me to supply Saber with the mana she needs?"

Voldemort grinned. "Nah, I'm just screwing with you."

_This damned mother f-_

Harry's face must've been comical because Voldemort let out a laugh. "What did you expect? You've got things under control. The only reason why I helped you last night was because you were too weak. Now that you won't get one-shot by Berserker, I have no need to grant you help."

Harry sighed. While unfortunate, it wasn't unforeseen. The fact that Voldemort taught Harry a spell last night was surprising enough.

Harry still had to try, though. Voldemort was an ocean of knowledge about the Dark Arts, and if Harry was stuck with him, he was for sure going to try to tap into that ocean.

"Come on. You know you want to showcase your genius. Prove that your mind is superior to mine. Or is it because you haven't thought of anything useful?" Harry goaded.

Voldemort simply quirked an eyebrow. Amusement danced in his red eyes. "I'm not stupid. I'm fully aware of what you're trying to do."

"Is it working?" Harry asked hopefully.

"Not a chance."

Harry deflated. It was a long shot anyway. "I see how it is."

Voldemort raised a finger. "Ah ah ah. That isn't to say that I'm going to do _nothing_."

Harry perked up at that. "Yeah? And what will you do?"

A bowl of popcorn materialized in Voldemort's lap. A footrest rose up from the ground, which Voldemort promptly put to good use. The golden throne reclined back until Voldemort was practically lying down at a 135 degree angle. The sun seemed to shine warmer and a cool breeze blew across the clearing.

"I'm going to sit back and enjoy the show, of course," Voldemort grinned.

There was complete silence at his declaration for a moment.

"You're a bastard, you know that?" Harry said without any real heat in his tone. He's gotten used to Voldemort by now. He's not going to get mad. He refuses to get mad-

"Oh, and Harry? While I'm glad you're no longer sleeping with Saber anymore, I really don't think sleeping with Shirou is any better. Although perhaps the claims about you and Dumbledore were true after all?"

"VOLDEMORT I SWEAR I'M GOING TO-"

And the clearing around them cracked and dissolved in light, Voldemort's shit-eating face being the last thing Harry saw.

XxX

Harry opened his eyes. He gave no other indications that he was awake. If somebody had been facing away from him, they wouldn't have known he was conscious at all.

While outwardly Harry was calm and quiet, inwardly he was cursing up a storm.

_-and once I'm finished with you, you'll wish that you _never_ attached a Horcrux onto my forehead. Accidentally, too! How the hell do you _accidentally_ lose a piece of your soul?!_

Finished mentally broadcasting his message to Voldemort, who was undoubtedly listening in glee, Harry stood up silently, careful not to wake Shir- oh. He was already gone.

How early did Shirou wake? While Harry could survive off of an hour's sleep, he preferred not to do so unless it was absolutely necessary.

Harry stretched. Several cleaning charms later, he was ready for the day.

He's returning to school today. A _normal _school. How bad could it possibly be?

XxX

"Farewell, Harry, Shirou. Teleport to me or summon me if there's an emergency."

"Naturally. Just stay within the compound and I'll know your approximate location. Smash the rock if anyone attacks. See you later."

"Bye Saber," Shirou waved before shutting the door behind him.

They walked a few dozen meters before Shirou spoke up again.

"Sooo. . . School, huh? You ready?"

Harry inclined his head. "Yup."

Shirou smiled. "You're not nervous?"

Harry frowned. "Of course not. It's _school_. What's the worst that can happen?"

Shirou shrugged. "School might not be dangerous physically, but. . . Actually, never mind. I don't think you'll really care about social standings and drama and stuff."

Harry stopped dead in his tracks. Oh gods. He'd completely forgotten about that. Teenage drama. . . If he's not careful, he'll be dragged into it.

"Right. _That._" Harry sincerely hoped Shirou wasn't mixed up in the social hierarchy. In fact, he should probably ask. If Shirou was going to be surrounded by vapid self-obsessed moody edgy teenagers all day, Harry was just going to Disillusion himself the entire day, consequences be damned.

Disillusionment was especially tiresome to maintain without a wand. Harry would probably be drenched in sweat by the first hour. There are more efficient spells that granted true invisibility, but those were extremely complicated and, once again, required a wand to perform.

. . . Wizards really did have a huge dependency on wands. Harry was just beginning to realize how detrimental the dependency can be.

He should expand his wandless repertoire someday. Invent new spells if he had to.

Shirou laughed unabashedly. "Nah, I'm not really involved in things. I'm pretty far removed from the social stage, actually. So is Sakura and Rin, though in Rin's case it's more because everyone is too afraid to talk to her."

"She's the school idol, right? Why would people be afraid?"

Shirou shivered. "She's scary, man. Besides, her beauty intimidates people. People admire her from afar, but they don't actually talk to her."

"Hmm?" That's oddly similar to how people were intimidated by Harry's fame and power. He could relate to Rin that way.

Unfortunately, people hadn't _stayed_ intimidated by Harry. Soon, much sooner than Harry had liked, people started treating him in ways he didn't entirely appreciate. "That must suck."

"Yeah, I know right? Although I don't think Rin minds- or even knows. She's always been super strong."

Harry was silent for a moment. "Sometimes," he began, "People are strong because they don't have a choice to be weak." His eyes glazed over.

_I'm sorry Harry, but you have to grow stronger. It's for the Greater Good. I know it hurts. I'm sorry._

Shirou looked pensively at Harry.

Harry blinked. "Oh man. I got really philosophical there, didn't I? My bad, my bad. It's a little too early for me to be talking like that."

"Yeah, no problem."

Harry slowly became aware of a sensation at the base of Harry's neck. He felt as if he was being watched. By whom, he did not know. Harry would go and investigate, but he had school to go to.

As Shirou and Harry neared the school, the density of students around then increased a hundredfold. There were people everywhere, talking and laughing with friends. Loners stood by themselves, couples were cuddled together.

There were also a lot of eyes on Shirou and Harry. Harry, specifically.

"Who is he?"

"A foreigner?"

"What is he doing here?"

"Why is Shirou with him?"

"He's really hot."

Harry ignored the last one.

"Am I really back in the center of attention?" Harry lamented. He had completely forgotten a basic fact: new students are always in the spotlight. Damnit.

"I guess you are," Shirou adjusted the bag on his shoulders. "Do you like it?"

"Hell no."

XxX

The stares and whispers seemed to form a tangible pressure that pressed down on Harry wherever he went. It was annoying.

"On the bright side," Shirou tried to mollify, "At least we didn't walk to school with Rin. Now _that _would have drawn a lot more attention."

Harry randomly looked in a direction. Six pairs of eyes swiveled away innocently.

Harry turned back to look at Shirou with a raised eyebrow. "You know, I don't think we _can_ garner more attention."

Shirou grimaced. "You may be right. How can Rin stand this every day? It's been like 10 minutes, and I'm just about to give up and leave you."

Harry's eyes widened desperately. "Don't you dare."

"Fine, fine," Shirou said. "Couldn't you have at least worn the normal uniform? Your cloak is attracting a lot of attention."

Harry shook his head adamantly. "No way. I shall never wear that monstrosity."

Being perfectly presentable and color coordinated was essential for battle.

. . . Perhaps being exposed to Dumbledore's _interesting _wear at such a young age traumatized Harry more than he thought.

They settled in the classroom, students gathering at the windows to stare at them stealthily (and failing miserably.)

"Ehhh this will probably just last a few days before people lose interest and get bored. We just have to last until then," Harry took the seat next to Shirou. At least, Harry hoped people would lose interest and get bored.

Sadly for him, that wasn't always the case. Harry's fame had not dissipated with time at all during his days at Hogwarts- if anything, it only increased.

Shirou set down his brown bag. "You don't even have any materials with you. How are you hoping to keep up?"

Harry tapped his head. "You'd be amazed at what the well-trained mind can accomplish." With the assistance of magic, of course.

"Shirou? Who is this? Did you replace me?" A voice, an annoyingly arrogant voice that invoked images of Draco Malfoy, drifted across the room. Harry instantly grew irritated.

Then he blinked. How can a voice arouse such irritation in him? That was odd.

Harry turned his head to see where the voice had come from. He fully expected to see a platinum-blonde boy flanked with two larger boys. Instead, he saw a messy blue-haired boy, his legs kicked up on the table.

_Unimpressive with a touch of scum on the side, _was Harry's first thought. Then he blinked again. He typically wasn't this. . . unforgiving during first meetings. Who was this boy to invoke such feelings within him? Either he was a master manipulator who could send out micro-cues to influence Harry's perceptions, or he was simply a Grade-A scumbag.

Judging by the annoyingsmirk on the boy's face, it was probably the second.

"Hey, Shinji, what's up? What do you mean by 'replace you?'" Shirou smiled in greeting.

"Oh, never mind, never mind. Who are you?" Shinji asked Harry.

Harry inclined his head. "I believe it's common courtesy for one to introduce themselves first."

Oh snap. He didn't mean to say that. He couldn't help it, though. This boy, Shinji, just rubbed Harry the wrong way.

Shinji drew back, an offended expression on his face. "Excu-"

Harry held up his hands, smiling. "Apologies, that was but a joke." It wasn't, but Shinji didn't need to know that. "My name is Harry Potter. And who might you be?"

Harry left out his customary "It's a pleasure to meet you." Because it truly wasn't.

Shinji drew himself up haughtily. "My name is Shinji Matou."

Then he proceeded to ignore Harry completely, instead addressing Shirou.

"Did you hear that they found Mitsuzuri?" Shinji's smirk became almost unbearable at that point. Harry's fingers itched. He wanted to banish a desk point blank into that smirk.

Shirou tensed at the mention. "What about it?"

"Oh, nothing. Just that she was found in an alley with her eyes glazed over and her clothes in tatters. I wonder, how did a normal girl like her end up getting ditched in an alley like that?"

What. . . what was Shinji implying?

"As a friend, I'm dying to-" Shinji was cut off by Shirou's rapid approach.

"Shinji!" Shirou barked, hands clenched tightly into a fist. He stopped about a foot away from Shinji.

"If looks could kill. . ." Did the smirk never go off Shinji's face? Is it a permanent fixture? Did Shinji have nerve damage? "I'm kidding, of course. It's only a rumor, yeah? After yesterday, though, she's becoming a real celebrity among the first-years."

"You were the last person to see Mitsuzuri, weren't you?" Shirou didn't exactly accuse, but Harry could read the underlying message clearly enough.

He wouldn't be surprised if Shirou was correct.

"Yeah, but all we did was make idle chit-chat."

Shirou's hands shot forward, grabbing Shinji's shoulders. Shinji grunted from the impact. Harry stood up, ready to intervene. If Shinji made a single move, then Harry would be there to intercept it.

"Don't start speculating," Shinji warned. Finally, the smirk was off his face. Instead, a scornful look replaced it. "If you start throwing around false accusations, you'll regret it, Emiya."

The bell rang. A musical tone rang out throughout the building.

In Harry's defense, he'd never had experience with a bell before. Hogwarts never had one.

As such, when the loud noise rang through the building, Harry instantly leaped back and jerked his hands up, ready to respond to any attack.

Nothing happened. Nothing, except for the entire class turning to look at Harry in bewilderment.

Harry relaxed, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head. "Ah, sorry about that. We don't have bells from where I come from. It surprised me."

There were a few snickers in the crowd of onlookers. Harry didn't mind, though. It defused the situation between Shirou and Shinji.

"Ha, surprised by the bell. What an oddball," Shinji brushed Shirou's hands off his shoulders. "Is he your friend now? Or maybe an assistant, Fake Janitor?"

With that final gibe, Shinji sauntered off.

Harry watched him go with satisfaction. He didn't really like being around Shinji. Harry's intuition was almost never wrong, after all. Yesterday, he could've said that his intuition was _never_ wrong, but then Altrouge came along and ruined his perfect record. Quite unfortunate.

"Fake Janitor?" Harry inquired politely.

Shirou glared at Shinji's retreating back. "I fix things up around the school, so people call me the Fake Janitor."

"It's better than the title I had," Harry said absentmindedly.

Shirou lost his glare, replaced with a curious expression. "What was your title?"

Harry grimaced. "The Boy-Who-Lived."

Shirou laughed. "What? How did you get that name?"

"It's a long, complicated story that I'd prefer not to share."

"Alright. Let's get to class. Follow me."

Harry looked around the room. "Oh? Why is everyone leaving? Aren't we already in a classroom?"

Shirou looked weirdly at Harry. "This is the homeroom where we assemble to do homework and socialize before actual classes begin. You guys didn't have bells or homerooms?"

"It was a magical school," Harry explained.

"That's awesome! What was it called? Did you like it?" Shirou slung his bag over his shoulders and began walking out.

Harry smiled, recalling happy memories. "It was called Hogwarts, and it was the best. Anyway, what class are we going to?"

Shirou stopped dead in his tracks. "Wait. If you went to a magical school, do you even know any normal concepts like math and biology?"

Now it was Harry's turn to look at Shirou weirdly. "No, of course not. Why would I?"

Shirou smirked. "We have physics first. I'm looking forward to this."

Harry raised an eyebrow. That was somewhat ominous. Although there was nothing to be worried about. What was a physics teacher going to do to him?

Harry could always just break a few fundamental laws of physics to assert dominance.

XxX

"Hello there. Who might you be?" A balding man in his fifties was peering down perplexedly at Harry.

Harry smiled back. "My name is Harry Potter. I'm a transfer student."

He raised his hand to his hair and straightened out a few strands, simultaneously casting a Confundus charm on the teacher.

The man's face seemed to droop for a second, and he started blinking rapidly as if a bug flew into his eye before he abruptly calmed down. His countenance became stern.

"I remember now. Harry Potter. My name is Takashi, and you will call me Takashi-sensei. Where are your clothes?"

Harry mentally groaned. So he was _that_ type of teacher.

"I apologize, but I forgot to buy the uniform. We didn't wear uniforms at my old school. I'll acquire some soon, don't worry."

That was a lie, by the way. Harry had no intention of even going near one of the uniforms.

Takashi-sensei harrumphed. "Very well. Mr. Potter, I'll give it to you straight. You are in Advanced Physics. This is an extremely rigorous class covering advanced topics. I will not have a student lagging behind and dragging the class down."

Harry could feel Shirou's amusement at the situation.

"Let me ask you a few questions to make sure you're up to speed. First, what is the Right-Hand Rule?"

Wait. The Right-Hand Rule? How the hell did Takashi, a muggle, know of it? Unless he wasn't a muggle?

Harry lowered his voice to below a whisper. "Sir, are you telling me to break the Statute of Secrecy?"

Takashi-sensei frowned, his wrinkles becoming even more pronounced. "What are you mumbling on about? The Statute of what, now?"

It's more likely that two different principles had the same name.

Harry smiled. When you don't know what's going on, just smile. It often works. "Nevermind, sir. I'm afraid I'm unfamiliar with the 'Right-Hand Rule.'"

"It appears your physics is severely worse than your Japanese. I commend you on that, as a matter of fact. I did not expect you to have such mastery of the language. I can barely hear the accent."

Harry inclined his head. "Thank you."

Takashi-sensei's frown intensified. "That being said, I cannot allow you to remain in this class. If you don't even know the Right-Hand Rule, then-"

"The Right-Hand Rule is a hand mnemonic that physicists use to show the direction of the magnetic force, the moving charge, and the magnetic field line," Harry interrupted.

Takashi-sensei blinked. "I thought you said you were unfamiliar with it?"

"Something got lost in the translation," Harry gave a small nod of apology. "I just realized what you meant."

Takashi-sensei's stern face melted into a warm smile. The wrinkles made him seem like a happy old grandfather. "Well then. I'm glad to have you with us, Mr. Potter. It's nice to have a new addition to the class."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm glad to be here too, Takashi-sensei."

It was weird calling him "sensei" and not "professor." He'll have to get used to it.

Harry then looked back at Shirou, who had a window seat. He gave Shirou the thumbs up, who returned it enthusiastically.

_Mission accomplished._

Harry wasn't going to use Legilimency on a muggle just to answer a trivial question correctly. Instead, he formed tiny green sparks on top of Shirou's desk, telling him to mouth the answer slowly. Harry then used his magic to render a mental 3D representation of Shirou's mouth and was able to read his lips, thus acquiring the answer.

It was a flawless execution. Nobody suspected a thing.

"Today, we shall be talking about a simple yet important topic," Takashi-sensei lectured. "I am talking about the Law of Conservation of Mass, of course. Can anyone tell me what it is?"

A brown-haired boy raised his hand. "Mass is neither created nor destroyed, only changed. It is an inviolable law."

Hold the hell up. What are muggles learning? Harry thanked Dumbledore for not sending him to a muggle school. If they're teaching nonsense like this, then Harry didn't want to attend.

Harry had heard of the Law of Conservation of Mass before and he knew a general explanation of it, but never the full definition. And this definition had a major flaw.

"Perfect explanation. Now-"

Harry raised his hand.

"Yes, Mr. Potter?"

"What about the beginning?"

Takashi-sensei's brows furrowed. "What?"

"You know, the beginning of the universe. Where did all of the mass come from? It had to have been created, correct?" There was a large gaping hole in this so-called inviolable "Law." How can muggles accept something like this?

"That's something that we do not know. Scientists and philosophers can debate about it all they want. We will not. This class deals with concrete substance, not speculation."

In other words, they're just going to accept a "Law" that has already been broken once.

Harry sighed. Muggles. What a bunch of strange people.

XxX

The rest of morning classes passed in a similar fashion. Stared at in the halls, whispered about by everyone, Confunding teachers, answering questions to prove his knowledge. . .

Finally, lunch came. Harry rubbed his hands in anticipation of Shirou's cooking. He'd made sure to tell Shirou to leave a bento for Saber at home.

"Let me get this straight," Shirou said. "You don't use electronics."

"Yup. They hate me, and I hate them."

Harry and Shirou were currently in the homeroom. Harry was sitting behind Shirou, and Shirou had turned around in his chair to face Harry.

Harry could count at least 8 people out of the corner of his eye staring at them. Troublesome.

"What about a plane? Can you ride on a plane?" Shirou asked.

Harry shrugged. "No idea. I've never been on one before. And to tell you the truth, I don't really want to."

Harry didn't understand why some magic reacted badly around electronics and others didn't. He especially didn't understand why _he_ reacted badly with electronics.

Shirou shook his head, bewildered. "That's so _weird_. Why would that happen?"

"No idea." There was likely an explanation out there, but it probably required Harry to know more scientific terms than he can be bothered to remember. In the long run, it didn't matter. "Why, have you ever had any adverse reactions to electronics before?"

"None. I dropped a phone once, but it was fine."

"Ha, amateur. Imagine _dropping _something and being unable to levitate it to prevent it from hitting the ground."

"Imagine being unable to stand near a television without it exploding randomly," Shirou countered. A girl looked over at them like they were oddballs.

"A little too loud there, my guy," Harry said. "There are enough rumours circulating about me. Let's try not to increase the pile."

"Sorry."

Harry suddenly tensed. Something changed. What was it? An attack?

A quick survey of the classroom revealed the source. Everyone was no longer staring at Harry. Instead, they were crowded around the windows, looking at something in the halls.

Harry tapped his fingers on the desk, trying to figure out what could draw all of their attention. He came up with nothing. "What are they looking at?"

Shirou sighed. "This happened yesterday too. Come on, no point in putting off the inevitable."

He stood up and walked to the door, Harry following after him curiously.

"Psst, Shirou, it's her again. What did you do to warrant this attention?" A slightly overweight brown-haired kid nudged Shirou as he passed.

"A lot," Shirou answered, not even slowing down. Harry gave the kid a reassuring smile. Who was the "her" the kid mentioned?

Shirou walked out the door with Harry right behind him. Rin was leaning against the wall, arms crossed and impatience written on her face.

"You kept me waiting. Again," Rin said upon seeing them.

"Sorry," Shirou stretched his arms above his head. "I was talking to Harry. Same place as yesterday?"

"Mmm-hmm." They both turned and walked down the hallway. Harry looked to his left and right, hoping to find an explanation in someone's face. He only saw confusion and disbelief.

Harry shrugged. Might as well follow them. He took several quick strides, catching up to them.

"Where are we going. . ." Harry trailed off as he felt the stares intensify by tenfold. If it had been bad in the morning, it was downright terrible now. Everyone, and Harry meant _everyone_, was staring. They'd stopped trying to appear inconspicuous and were now openly gawking at the three of them.

"We're going to the rooftop to eat lunch," Shirou supplied helpfully.

"Ah, I see. Is there a reason why I feel like a veritable target?"

Rin looked around them. Everyone averted their gaze. "You know, you may be right. Everyone _is_ looking at us. It was the same yesterday too. I can't imagine why. Is there something wrong with my clothes? Something on my face, perhaps?"

Shirou blinked. "Isn't it obvious? You're the school's idol. Anything you do outside the norm would draw massive amounts of attention. Eating lunch with two boys you've never talked to openly before, one of whom is new, would send everyone into DEFCON 1."

They turned into a stairwell and began walking up, Harry looking behind him one last time.

"Oh? That's odd. Is me eating with you two really that big of a deal?"

"Definitely," Shirou said with a resolute nod.

Rin sighed. "It appears I still have much to learn. I confess, the constant spotlight on me is becoming rather tedious."

"EXACTLY." Harry coughed as Rin and Shirou flinched from his sudden shout. He couldn't help it; he was rather. . . passionate about this topic. "Sorry. Rin, I know exactly what you're going through."

They emerged from the stairwell onto the rooftop. Harry immediately scanned the surroundings for threats. The sensation at the base of his neck intensified. So he was still there, huh?

Oh well. There wasn't anything Harry could do about his watcher. Leaving Shirou and Rin's side can lead to catastrophe. He'll just have to deal with it for now.

"Were you an idol too in your school too?" Rin asked, beginning to sit down on the floor. The hard, rough, _dirty_ concrete floor.

"Wait!" Harry cried desperately. Rin froze, halfway down, legs bent.

"What?"

Harry cast a few cleaning charms on the roof. He then manipulated the air around them to form a thin cushion over the concrete, creating a relatively soft surface. "The roof is nasty. Don't just sit down on it."

Rin smiled. "Alright, alright." She sat down before suddenly leaping up again as though electrified.

Shirou tensed. "Is there a problem?" He looked around warily before his gaze focused on the spot where Rin had just sat down.

Rin pointed at the spot. "It was soft! Why was it soft? Is it actually soft?"

"I manipulated the air so that it would form a cushion underneath." Harry chuckled at her reaction.

"Oh. That explains it."

Shirou burst out laughing. "Did you seriously just freak out because the ground was soft?"

Rin turned red. "It was really unexpected, okay? Don't laugh."

Shirou's laughter subsided. "Sorry, sorry."

They sat down, the concrete block them providing shade from the sun. Not that they really needed the shade; it wasn't hot outside at all.

Rin frowned. "What was I saying again?"

"You were asking if I was a school idol," Harry reminded her. Shirou passed Harry a bento, which he gratefully accepted.

Rice with sesame seeds on top. Sausages cut into small octopuses. Stir-fried vegetables. Harry inhaled the scent.

Delicious.

"That's right. So, were you an idol?" Rin opened her own bento and began digging in.

"Idol would be an understatement. I was a celebrity back in my world, probably the most famous celebrity." Gilderoy Lockhart and Fudge had _nothing_ on Harry's fame.

Dumbledore had come close, but he presented himself as an old doddering senile grandfather, so he wasn't as loved by the public.

"When I first began school, _everyone_ knew my name. I was mentioned in radios, history books, and passing conversation. Hell, there were even story books written about me."

Harry still couldn't believe it had been legal. The publishers used Harry's name and popularity to create several fictional tales and sold them for some decent money, and Harry was entitled to none of it. Never mind the fact he didn't give them permission at all.

Wizarding law was infuriating.

"I had no privacy whatsoever. Wherever I went, everyone would point and stare. Adults would come up to me to shake my hand."

Shirou whistled. "Whoa. You sound like a K-pop star. It must've been bad."

"It was," Harry confirmed. He let out a sigh. "I can't blame them, however. The Wizarding World had been on the verge of being overcome by the darkness, and I was the light that shone through the darkness."

The first war against Voldemort was terrifying. There's a reason why fully grown adults were scared to even say his name.

"Wow. At least in my case, all anyone ever does is stare at me, and occasionally ask me out on dates." Rin placed a bit of rice in her mouth. Immediate noises of satisfaction could be heard.

Harry shivered. "Believe me, they did that too. Tell me, do you have love potions in this world?"

Rin stopped chewing as she quickly understood the implication. "They tried to drug you?!"

Harry seemed to age 30 years at once. The color seemed to drain out of him, and a lifeless light appeared in his eyes. "You wouldn't believe the things fangirls have done to me."

"That. . . isn't right," Rin said.

"It wasn't, it truly wasn't. Thankfully, they never managed to get a love potion in me, but there were some close calls."

"What did your girlfriend do about them?" Rin asked with a coy smile. "She must've been furious, right?"

"I never had a girlfriend."

Harry never had had the time for romance. Getting stronger to defeat Voldemort was his only priority. Besides, there weren't really any girls at Hogwarts that Harry particularly liked.

"Oh!" Rin exclaimed, her hand flying to her mouth. "Well, I can't say that I'm surprised. It does explain many things, actually."

"What things?"

"Nothing, nothing. So there was nobody to get back at the fangirls?"

Harry shook his head. "My friends tried helping, but I didn't want to get them involved in my problems."

Shirou crossed his arms. "And the. . . fangirls didn't get into trouble?"

Harry shook his head. "No. All they received was a stern lecture and a light slap on the wrist."

Wizarding law on love potions were _extremely_ lax. The only laws in place concerned inheritance and family name. Other than that, nobody would blink an eye if a girl tried to force feed a love potion to a boy.

If a boy did that to a girl, though, he would be vilified and cast out socially, perhaps even thrown into Azkaban depending on if the girl was a pureblood.

Magical Britain was backwards as hell. Just like how girls could venture into the boy's dormitory but boys were banned from the girl's, the laws in the real world were often the same.

(Not that the charms in place preventing boys from passing ever _worked_ on Harry before. It took him only a couple hours to figure out a counter- then bear a subsequent 2 hour interrogation from Sirius as to exactly how Harry did it.)

"No offense, Harry," Rin began hesitantly, "But your world sounds really bad."

"It was," Harry sighed. "Don't get me wrong, there were definitely good parts to it." Like Harry's friends. "But. . . well, there's a reason why I'm not that eager in going back."

Rin blinked. "This morning, didn't you list out reasons as to why Britain was great?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably. "I mean. . . I couldn't exactly badmouth Britain, could I?" What with Saber, a former king of Britain, being there and all that. "Rest assured, however, that I despise Britain and most of the people in it."

Despite Harry's dislike for the general populace, Dumbledore was never afraid that Harry would turn his back on good and turn evil. After all, Harry would risk his life over and over again to save the same people he despises.

It's Harry's saving people thing. It gets terribly inconvenient at times.

"Oh."

A silence descended over the three of them, the only sound being their chewing and the occasional sound of contentment Harry and Rin let out over Shirou's cooking.

Shirou broke the silence. "Hey Rin, you can use electronics, correct?"

Harry groaned. "Not this again."

Rin looked confusedly at the two of them. "By electronics, you mean phones and stuff?"

Shirou nodded seriously. "Yeah."

"Of course I can use electronics. Why shouldn't I?" Rin finished her meal, shutting the bento and placing it off to the side.

"Harry here can't."

Rin looked at Harry confusedly for a second before understanding flashed across her face. "I see. You're one of _those_."

Harry cocked his head. "One of those?"

"There are a lot of mages out there who refuse to use technology. They prefer to use spells and such," Rin explained.

"No no no. It's not that I refuse to use technology. It's that whenever I do, electronics tend to explode randomly."

"Wait. Electronics explode whenever you use them?" Rin asked incredulously.

"Not just when I use them. If I'm in close proximity with an electronic, then there's a good chance of it bursting into flames." Harry finished bento too, stacking it on top of Rin's bento on the ground.

"That's really weird. And does this happen to every magic user in your world?"

Harry shook his head. "Not everyone. Just the most powerful."

Which was a good thing. The Statute of Secrecy wouldn't last very long if every phone started bursting in flames whenever a muggleborn wanted to call his friends.

"I see," Rin scrutinized Harry. "That must be really inconvenient."

Harry shrugged in response. He didn't need electronics. Whatever muggles could do, wizards could do better.

"Lunch is over. We should head back inside," Shirou brought up. Sure enough, they could see students below returning to school.

They stood up, Harry willing the air below them to return to normal.

"Alright, let's go. What do we have next?" Harry directed at Shirou.

"Japanese Language Arts," Shirou replied.

A grin spread across Harry's face. "Yes! I don't have to cheat my way through this one. The Grail had given me all the information I needed."

"You cheated?" Rin looked at Harry in a new light, and not necessarily a better one.

Harry shifted uncomfortably. "I'd prefer not to, but quite a lot of teachers here seem to enjoy quizzing me to see if I know the material. And I've never learned muggle stuff before."

"Muggle?"

"Non-magic people."

"Ah, got it. Well, if you're not cheating, you're not trying, right?" Rin grinned mischievously.

"Trust me. I maintained perfect academic integrity at my old school. I had no choice today."

"Right, of course."

Shirou and Rin began walking down again. Harry lingered for a bit.

"Any trouble?" he asked.

Archer materialized in blue light. "All clear."

Harry nodded. "Good. Keep an eye out."

"I will. I would be more concerned about internal troubles, however. The Master is likely a student or teacher," Archer cautioned. "Don't get caught of guard."

"Right, right." Harry turned around, ready to go after and Shirou and Rin.

"Have fun with all the attention," Archer called. "You won't believe the rumors I've heard spreading about you. Teenagers are scary, I tell you."

Harry tensed and whirled around, but Archer was already gone.

"What rumors?!"

XxX

By the end of the day, Harry was spent. School was exhausting. Why did he agree to this again?

The sun was setting, casting an orange light that streamed in through the windows. Rin and Shirou were walking ahead and looking for sigils.

Apparently, for a Bounded Field to be formed, sigils had to be drawn in order to create the magical field. It's very similar to runes.

Harry wasn't really paying attention to their conversation, instead glancing around and maintaining constant vigilance.

He was going to send out a magic pulse to try and locate the sigils, but Harry wasn't sure how the sigils would react. There were runes out there that were volatile and would activate when hit with magic. Harry couldn't risk it.

And so, they're left to just manually walking around and looking for the sigils. They were in the library currently. It was much smaller than the Hogwart's library, but to be fair, Hogwarts did have a millenium to collect books.

Shirou halted suddenly. His hand shot out to the side. He closed his eyes and concentrated and intoned, "Trace on."

A ripple of magic, small, barely noticeable, spread out across the surface of the bookshelf. It's as if it was scanning for something.

Harry readied himself. Shirou and Rin moved the books to the side, revealing a single red sigil etched onto the shelf.

"There really was one there. I'm impressed," Rin breathed.

"That's a sigil?" Shirou asked. Harry stood on the balls of his feet trying to get a good look. Curse his height.

"Yes. For a guy with no sensitivity to the mana of living things, you can sense when something is off about a place right away," Rin reached out, her hand covering the sigil. There was a small glow of yellowish-red light, and the sigil lost most of its color saturation. It was neutralized, then.

"Was that a compliment?" Shirou asked dryly.

Rin didn't respond.

They continued around the school, Harry trailing behind them as they continued their conversation and found more sigils.

The sensation at the base of Harry's neck was still there. Was the person just going to stalk Harry all day?! It was becoming really annoying.

Their search went everywhere- in the locker rooms, in the music rooms, even on the rooftop. Harry was rather confused, to say the least. If these sigils were going to generate vast amounts of power, shouldn't they have been better protected? Even a single basic enchantment would've been enough. But no, the sigils were completely bare with no protections whatsoever.

Don't get him wrong, he wasn't complaining. He loved it when the enemies were incompetent. It's less work for him that way.

"That should be most of the active sigils," Rin said. She was kneeling on the rooftop and had just disabled a sigil.

"Were you able to disable the Bounded Field?" Shirou asked.

"The Field itself was already in place, so all I did was weaken its potency," Rin replied.

"Why can't you just neutralize the Field?" Harry cut in.

Rin smiled one of her devious smiles. "Because, my dear Harry, the person who inscribed these sigils won't just stand by and watch his plans be dismantled."

Realization dawned on Harry. "You're baiting them."

"Precisely. If I removed them all, then the Master may just call it quits and cut his losses. But if there's still a small amount of pie left, he'll stay for it," Rin stood up and brushed off dust on her skirt. "By my estimation, he'll show up, maybe even tomorrow."

Harry grinned in anticipation. "And when he does show up, we'll be waiting for him. I like it."

Shirou wasn't as eager. "He'll show up tomorrow, huh?"

"Probably. There is one other reason why I can't neutralize the entire Field, though," Rin revealed.

"Oh? And what is that?"

Rin's eyes flickered over to Harry's. "I'm not sure I _can_ neutralize the Field. The sigils are disappearing, but I don't think they're actually _gone_."

"A self-sustaining regenerating ward? Impressive, and slightly disturbing."

Perhaps the reason Rider was so weak the other day was because she wasn't a frontal assault fighter but rather a wardmaster.

Harry hated people who fought using wards. Most. Annoying. Thing. Ever.

XxX

Harry leaned against the wall gazing out of the window across from him. Shirou and Rin were packing up inside the classroom.

This day had been exhausting. Harry couldn't wait to return back to the peace of the compound.

His mind went back to Saber. Did she have a good day? Harry hoped so. Being alone can be terribly. . . isolating at times.

"I-I am not!" Rin's shout drew Harry's attention. She was holding her hand out in front of her, and there was a blush on her face that contrasted with her flustered expression. "We have an alliance, so of course I care! You're my teammate, and if you get hurt, then it'll mess up my plans."

And she turned and started to walk in Harry's direction with an almost subdued air around her.

"What was that about?" Harry asked.

Rin's response was immediate and loud. "Nothing!"

Harry raised his eyebrows at that but didn't question it.

Shirou walked out of the classroom with a slightly confused expression on his face. He shared a glance with Harry.

_Do you know what's wrong with her?_

Harry's eyes flickered. _Nope. Not a clue._

They shared a shrug at Rin's odd behavior.

"Come on, let's return," Harry turned around and began retracing his steps to the entrance.

"Harry Potter."

Harry spun around. Shinji stepped out of a classroom next to them.

Harry fake-smiled politely. "Yes? Do you need something?"

"Are you a Servant?"

Rin, Harry, and Shirou all tensed. The pieces fell together in Harry's mind. Shinji knew of the Holy Grail War. Shinji went to this school. Which meant. . .

"I see. So you're the one who created the Bounded Field around the school," Harry said, carefully gauging Shinji's reaction, scanning for any lies and falsehood.

Shinji raised his hand to his head and brushed his curly blue hair back. "Oh, that was insurance. People die in the Holy Grail War. I was just taking steps to prevent that from happening to me."

He. . . he didn't even try to lie?! Harry blinked. How bold of him.

Shirou took a step forward, a disbelieving glare on his face. "Shinji? You were the one who created the Bounded Field?"

"Don't look at me like that, Emiya," Shinji shook his head in mock outrage. "I had to. The Masters and Servants that fight in the War are ruthless. I'm in the same position as you, Emiya. I can't supply mana to my Servant, so she had to find. . . other means."

Rin's eyes blazed with fury. "And the girl drained yesterday was your doing as well?"

Shinji shrugged. "I can't control my Servant very well, unfortunately. She decided to do it on her own. Oh well, it's just one girl."

Rin crossed her arms. "But it's not just one girl, isn't it? It's multiple. The one yesterday and Mitsuzuri were all you, correct?"

Shinji sighed. "Why are you asking me things you already know? Although. . . " Shinji leered at Rin, looking her up and down. "If you want a full recounting of events, I would be more than happy to tell you at my place."

He did _not_ just go there. Harry slowly edged away from Shinji and Rin. If Rin exploded, Harry didn't want to be caught in what he liked to call the "splatter zone."

Thankfully, Rin's response was relatively peaceful. She simply bristled in disgust. "In your dreams, Shinji. Like I would be caught dating a guy like you. Stop trying."

"You'll come around to it someday," Shinji drawled. "Now, answer me, Potter. Are you a Servant?"

"I am," Harry answered truthfully. _Technically_.

"Oh? Emiya, how. . . bold of you, having him walk around in public like that. He's not even disguised- don't you think such ostentatious wear would draw unwanted attention? Why don't you keep him in Spirit Form? Or is it because you're so stupid, you literally _can't_?"

"What do you want?" Shirou demanded, ignoring Shinji's question.

Shinji extended his hand. "I would like to team up with you. We Matous used to be a mage family, you know."

Shirou looked like he wasn't sure what to be more surprised about- the fact that Shinji wanted to team up or that the Matou used to be a mage family.

"He's right," Rin confirmed. "The Matous were once very prominent, though they have fallen from grace. Case in point: Shinji right here, who's complete useless."

"That's harsh, Rin," Shinji bemoaned, "Although you are partially correct. I don't want to fight anybody." The smirk returned to his face. "So, what do you say, Emiya? Want to team up?"

To his credit, Shirou only considered it for about half a second. "No. I already have an alliance with Rin. Besides, if you aren't going to fight, there's no reason for me to work with you, is there? Harry, Rin, let's go."

Shirou turned to leave, Rin and Harry dutifully trailing after him. Harry walked backwards, wary of any sneak attacks.

"You can't work with me, huh?" Shinji said in a knowing tone. "Emiya, are you actually going to try to win?"

Shirou stopped walking.

"I see," Shinji took Shirou's silence as confirmation. "If so, I can't leave my sister in the home of someone who is going to keep taking part of this slaughter"

"Fine," Shirou agreed. "I'll tell Sakura myself."

"Sakura's your sister?!" Harry asked in shock.

"She is," Shinji drawled slowly. "Do you see the resemblance?"

Harry mentally compared the two. Shinji was annoying, egotistical, arrogant, and haughty. Sakura was composed, polite, and reserved.

"Nope. Oh man, you're Sakura's brother." Harry suddenly felt very sorry for Sakura. Harry could barely stand being around Shinji for 5 minutes. He couldn't even imagine how it would be like _living_ with him.

"Oh, and Potter? Stay away from her. I don't want you near her. You're a Servant, there's no telling what you would do."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "I don't like what you're implying."

"You don't have to like it. Just stay away from her," Shinji ordered. "Shirou, what we discussed here today is between you and me. I came clean to you because of my friendship." Friendship?! What friendship? Was Shirou _friends_ with this scumbag?

"And why did you come clean to me?" Rin asked, curious.

"Because you're hot," Came the blunt reply. "That's right, I almost forgot. Wanna team up with me, Rin?"

"I'd sooner die," Rin looked revolted at the thought.

"That's unfortunate. So, don't tell anyone, alright?"

"Fine, we'll keep quiet," Shirou promised.

"Wait," Harry cracked his pointer finger knuckle using his thumb. "Shirou, Shinji here is a Master. Should we take him out?"

Shinji took a few quick steps back. "That's my cue to go. See, what did I tell you, Emiya? Bloodthirsty Servants everywhere. Can you blame me for taking precautions?"

And Shinji turned around and cowardly ran away.

"Just say the word, and I'll bring him back," Harry waited for Shirou's reply.

"Don't. Just leave him be for now," Shirou said, turning around once more. "Let's go home."

"Alright," Harry shrugged. He could always take care of Shinji next time they meet. There's no rush. He'll respect Shirou's wishes. There may be more to the situation, after all.

He won't make a mistake in haste. Not again.

XxX

"So, Shirou, why are you fighting in this War? Do you truly want the Holy Grail?" Rin asked as they walked on the streets.

Shirou thought over his answer. "Not really. I just want to save as many innocent people as possible. Prevent people from getting hurt. Also, Saber wants the Holy Grail, and I want to try and get her it."

Harry smiled. "You fight to save others? Admirable."

Shirou laughed embarrassed. "Thanks. I want to be a Hero of Justice, actually."

Harry and Rin looked over to see if Shirou was joking. He wasn't.

Rin broke down in giggles and Harry's smile grew wider. "A Hero of Justice?"

"Oh, t-that's perfect," Rin managed to gasp out. "Shirou Emiya, the Hero."

Shirou looked away with a blush on his face. "S-shut up. It's what Kiritsugu wanted to be."

"Whoa, don't get me wrong. I think it's awesome. Helping others is always great." Harry did have his saving people thing, after all. He'd be a hypocrite if he ridiculed Shirou.

Rin's giggles subsided. "Yeah, it's nothing to be ashamed of. . . Hero of Justice." And the giggles began anew.

Shirou sighed. "I know that Saber desires the Grail, but why are you fighting, Harry? You don't need mana from me, and I won't use Command Seals to control you. Why don't you just leave and do whatever you want?"

Harry looked at Shirou like he was an idiot. "Because you're my friend, of course. And who would I be if I abandoned my friends when they're stuck in a death battle?"

"That's why you're fighting in this War?" Shirou was pleasantly surprised. Harry wasn't sure why. Friends were the most important things in Harry's life, after all. Harry would do anything for his precious people.

"Well, that's the main reason. It's also because this is like a vacation. Besides, as you said, innocent people can get caught in the crossfire of this War. I have to protect them."

Harry was strong. Extraordinarily so. He had all this power and knowledge for a reason, and that reason is not to allow him to rule over everyone else like what Voldemort had believed, but rather to protect the innocent and weak.

If there was one thing Dumbledore did perfectly, it was instilling morals and values into Harry. Morals and values were what separated him from Voldemort and the other monsters in the world. And Harry refused to give up on his morals, no matter how difficult it was.

The strong had a lonely life. The weak rarely understood how much the strong sacrificed to be able to protect them. Harry doubted 99% of the Wizarding World understood exactly what Dumbledore has done to ensure that they can go to sleep safe that night. The strong fights evil and darkness, and the weak rarely only sees that, never looking underneath the underneath and understanding.

But that's alright. Harry didn't care if most of the world didn't acknowledge- or even know- his role in making sure they're alive and free. Because he isn't in this for fame or money; he did everything he did because it was the right thing to do.

Every person has a choice to make between doing what is easy and what is right. It would be insanely easy for Harry to just stop caring and simply vacation away for the rest of his life in peace and luxury. It's not like anyone can stop him or force him to come back.

That wouldn't be right, though. There would still be evil in the world. And it was Harry's responsibility to fight back against the evil, to preserve the light in the darkness. After all, if he didn't do it, who would?

Shirou smiled. "Well, Harry, let's try to protect everyone, alright?"

Harry smirked. "Why try when we can succeed?"

They shared a fist bump. "Although please don't call me a Hero of Justice," Harry added as an afterthought.

Shirou laughed. "Hey, in my defense, I was young when I came up with that name."

Rin snorted. "No kidding. I can't believe you think the Holy Grail War is like a vacation, though." She stared skeptically at Harry. "Are you sure you're okay mentally?"

"Whoa, of course I am! Who do you take me for?" Harry raised an eyebrow. "Besides, compared to him, the Holy Grail War is like a vacation."

Rin cocked her head. "How? And who's 'him?'"

Harry ran his hand through his hair. His green eyes seemed to darken. "His name was Voldemort. He was a Dark Lord, probably the most fearsome Dark Lord in my world's history. His goal was to conquer the entire world, and there was a good chance of him succeeding.

"He was born a human, but I cannot call him a human anymore. He's a monster, his body more magic than flesh. He lacks morals and compassion and empathy. Remorse is an alien concept to him. He kills whomever he wants and he does whatever he wants.

"He was a genius. He had one of the greatest minds that ever existed. Talented, powerful, brilliant. . . there wasn't much he couldn't do. At first, he was going to take over Magical Britain, but as time went on, he decided that he'd much prefer to rule the entire world.

"I could count the people that could stop him on one hand. There was me, there was my teacher, Dumbledore, and I suppose Grindlewald also could've done something if he wasn't rotting away in jail- but I digress. He could probably take on entire armies and come out on top. His skill in Dark Magic was unparalleled, and if I didn't have access to an overpowered technique, I wouldn't have survived our duels. He was just that powerful."

Finished ranting, Harry took a deep breath in through his nose and let it out. "And as for the Holy Grail War being like a vacation. . . well, let me just say there's a reason why I don't really miss my homeworld all that much."

Harry honestly despised the magical community. They expect him to solve all of their problems. They see him as a means to further themselves, not as an actual person. Harry didn't like that very much.

Society was toxic as hell. There were a few good people in there, but the majority were brain-dead selfish idiots, idiots that Harry preferred to interact with as little as possible.

Shirou had been staring wide-eyed at Harry throughout his monologue. "Voldemort sounded really bad."

"Bad is an understatement," Harry winced at the memories that floated up. "He did unspeakable things. I don't think there was a single moral law that he didn't break once before."

"How did you stop him?" Rin asked.

Harry smiled victoriously. "A combination of luck, strategy, spellwork, superior comrades, and overpowered techniques."

Even though Harry would never admit it to Voldemort, his resurrection _was_ pretty stupid. "To put it simply, Dumbledore and I outplayed the hell out of Voldemort."

"Nice," Rin said. "He's dead, then?"

Harry hesitated. "Technically. I won't go into details." Knowledge of Horcruxes was top-level confidential information that Harry refused to divulge to anyone else, lest they try to recreate it.

"Fair enough. A mage- and a Sorcerer- has to protect his secrets."

Shirou turned to face Rin. "Hey, it's not fair that Harry and I told you our motives. Why are you fighting in the War?"

Rin's expression became melancholy. "I have little interest in the Grail itself. I'm fighting for the sake of my father and my family name, and to prove myself as a mage."

Harry could understand that.

Shirou crossed his arms. "Hold on. That means. . . all three of us do not have a desire for the Grail."

Harry opened his mouth but then shut it. "You're actually correct."

"What an unlikely group to form," Rin spun around to face Harry and Shirou. "I'm glad I'm in an alliance with you two."

Shirou smiled. "So am I. It's great being with you. You're an awesome friend."

Huh. Rin had started blushing again. "S-stupid, don't say things like that." She lifted her right hand to grab her left elbow, and looked away. "Besides, we're only friends because of the alliance."

Shirou shook his head. "Not at all. We may have been brought together because of the alliance, but we're friends because I genuinely like people like you."

Rin's blush deepened.

"T-thank you," Rin said quietly. Then her voice returned to its normal volume. "Don't mess with a lady's heart like that! You can't say those things out of nowhere!"

"I'm sure he'll keep that in mind when he actually sees a lady," a disembodied voice came out from in front of them. Rin's mouth fell open- from shock or anger, Harry didn't know.

Archer materialized, blue light surrounding his form for a second. "For what it's worth, I too am not fighting for the Grail."

"Were you eavesdropping this entire time?" Harry asked bluntly.

Archer huffed. "You guys are too loud. Even if I didn't want to eavesdrop, I would've still heard anyways."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "You must have exceptional hearing then. Why did you come out of Spirit Form? Is there a problem?"

Archer looked around them. The sun was almost down. It was dark out with only a small amount of light remaining. The street they were on was empty with not a soul to be seen.

"There is. Harry, do you sense something following us?"

Harry became painfully aware of the sensation at the base of his neck. "I do. I've been feeling it since this morning. I left it alone though, since fighting at a school is a terrible idea."

Archer smiled, turning to face a direction. "Why don't you say we take care of him?"

Harry also turned to face the same direction. The sensation went into overdrive. "Yeah, I'm down. There's nobody around. Are you going to draw him out, or should I?"

Archer inclined his head. "By all means, go right ahead."

"There's someone following us?" Shirou looked in the same direction, squinting into the distance.

Archer chuckled. "A little slow on the uptake, aren't you? Rin, keep him safe. This could get dangerous."

Harry ignored their conversation, instead snapping his fingers and sending out a single magic pulse. It returned with a load of information that Harry quickly sorted through. _Tree, building, wall, dirt, stone, bush, _UNDEFINED_._

"Found him. He's in Spirit Form right now. On the tree over there, the one with the three bushes underneath."

Archer focused his senses. "Got it."

Harry took a deep breath, layered his voice with magic, and intoned, "Show yourself. We know you're there. You've been following us all day now, at least have the courtesy to come out and introduce yourself." While his voice wasn't loud, since Harry didn't want to draw attention, it was layered with bass tones so that it had a definite kick in it.

Nobody emerged. Nobody materialized.

Harry sweatdropped. "Um. . . please come out? Damnit. Archer, do you know how to get him out of Spirit Form?"

Archer scratched the back of his head. "I expected him to come out and face us. This is a little surprising. Physical attacks won't work, so I suppose you'll have to unleash some sort of a devastating magical attack."

Harry caught on immediately. "Of course. I have just the spell. Oh, you two aren't squeamish, right?" He glanced questioningly at Rin and Shirou, who both shook their heads. "Brilliant."

Harry's hand suddenly glowed, the colors of the rainbow being emitted from it. Archer immediately took a few steps back, forearm shielding his eyes from the brightness. "You're going to hit him with _that?_ It's a little bit cruel, don't you think?"

Archer was perfect at this. Harry mentally grinned before shrugging. "Not at all."

"Wait, Harry, what is that-" Rin was cut off by the sudden wind that exploded off of Harry, blowing everything back by half a foot. Harry Apparated right next to the Servant who was still in Spirit Form and plunged his hand down.

The Servant materialized immediately, blocking Harry's hand with the shaft of his red spear. He was snarling, and he was unconsciously leaning away from Harry's hand, which was still emitting the colors of the rainbow.

Harry Disapparated away, not wanting to be caught in a counterattack.

The Servant was Lancer. The same Servant that had attacked Harry after his arrival to this world.

"Archer, that was excellent," Harry kept his eyes on Lancer, but there was a small smile on his face.

"You understood my plan immediately. Fighting alongside you will be enjoyable. Competent partners are definitely hard to come by." A bow materialized in Archer's hand which he promptly aimed at Lancer.

Lancer held his spear in a purely defensive stance, eyes flickering back and forth between Harry and Archer, prepared to defend from any attack.

"Good evening, Lancer," Harry called out. "What brings you here tonight?"

"Yo. My Master commanded me to observe you. I have no desire to fight tonight, for the record." Lancer greeted nonchalantly. "So if you could just chill, that would be great."

"You tried to kill me!" Shirou yelled, pointing a finger at Lancer.

"He tried to kill me too," Rin said.

"Same with me," Archer nocked an arrow- where did he get that from?

"Ditto. I think he's tried to kill all four of us at some point," Harry said wryly.

Lancer shrugged. "Yeah, well, I'm a Servant. It's my job to slay other Servants and Masters. I do have to ask, what was that rainbow attack?"

Harry's entire posture became guarded, and he radiated danger. "You wish to know what that attack was?"

"Yeah, I'm curious," Lancer's stance went even lower, as if he was afraid that Harry would demonstrate the attack on him and wanted to be able to spring away at a moment's notice.

Harry nodded, closing his eyes. Then he opened them, planted his hands on his hips, and proudly declared with a foxy smile on his face, "That was just a big lie. A bluff, a con, a bait."

Lancer furrowed his brows for a moment before he understood. He groaned. "That attack was a bluff to draw me out of Spirit Form."

Harry chuckled. "Precisely."

"And like a fool," Archer said smugly, "You fell for it."

Lancer sighed. "Damn it. I should've just ran when I saw you guys looking at me."

"You're not here to fight, correct?" Harry asked.

Lancer hesitated. "Officially, my Master has commanded me to not engage in combat at all. I'm here only to observe, nothing more."

Harry nodded, absorbing the information. Perhaps Harry could negotiate with Lancer's Master. He sounds like an agreeable person.

"And unofficially?" Archer drew back his bowstring even more. Harry's gaze fell onto the bow. He recalled Archer making multiple accurate shots from miles away. The sheer amount of force required for Archer to be able to do that must've been tremendous. With its relatively small size, the bow should've splintered under the strain. For it to not have, it was probably one of the finest pieces of craftsmanship Harry had ever seen.

"Unofficially?" A wide grin spread across Lancer's face. "A fight against an honest-to-god Sorcerer would be _awesome_. I was ordered to not attack, but if you guys attacked me, then I'm free to defend myself. So if you could, like, shoot a spell at me, that would be great."

Harry was left speechless for a moment. Then an understanding smile spread across his face as well. "I see. You fight for the sake of fighting, don't you?"

"What else would I fight for? I don't desire money, fame, or power. I just want a good fight. So, Sorcerer, can you give me one?" Lancer gestured with his spear at Harry.

Harry chuckled. "Lancer, was it? I like you." Fighting for the sake of fighting. Fighting to get the thrill, the sense of satisfaction when a plan is executed perfectly, the exhilaration when you dodge certain death for the umpteenth time, the euphoria when your spellwork and techniques flawlessly destroys an opponent. Harry could respect that.

"Very well then. If it's a good fight that you desire. . ." Harry drew in his magic, halted its flow, and let it build up. "Then I shall give you one." The magic exploded out of Harry in the form of a wall of wind- condensed air particles shooting forward at Lancer.

Lancer's eyes widened as he jumped twenty feet into the air, dodging the wall entirely. Harry wasted no time in Apparating directly behind Lancer, casting a point-blank stunning spell at Lancer. In an inhuman display of speed, Lancer twisted his spear behind him to block the spell.

What. The. Hell. Lancer just deflected a point-blank stunning spell?! It appeared that Harry couldn't cast any spells at him then. There was no point in wasting magic in casting spells that would just get blocked anyway.

Lancer then used the momentum of the spear to turn around and try to knee Harry in the face.

Harry simply banished Lancer away, and they both fell towards the ground.

Harry slowed his descent the same way he had when he'd walked off the roof when he first met Lancer. Lancer backflipped in the air and landed on his feet, nimble as a cat.

Harry idly wondered if he should pull out his wand for this, but ultimately decided against it. He had to save it for Berserker. Lancer seemed likeable enough, and Harry didn't really want to kill him.

"Not bad," Lancer grinned. Then his grin turned feral, and he rushed Harry, covering the distance between them faster than Harry could blink.

Thankfully, Harry didn't blink. Otherwise, this would've been a pretty embarrassing fight.

Lancer thrusted his spear about a dozen times in less than a second. Harry dodged them all with some difficulty. The thrusts were almost as fast as Voldemort's Killing Curse.

He circulated more and more magic within his body, augmenting his bones and muscles. He was going to be sore tomorrow morning, but it was worth it.

On Lancer's twelfth thrust, Harry tilted his head to the side and allowed it to past by him harmlessly- when Lancer suddenly redirected the thrust into a sideways swipe, right at Harry's head. Harry ducked down on instinct- right onto Lancer's knee.

Mere centimeters before Lancer's knee could be introduced to Harry's face, Harry gritted his teeth and sent magic into the ground. The very ground beneath Lancer trembled before cracking, sending Lancer off-balance. He recovered in a nanosecond, already repositioning his knee, but Harry had backed out in that small opening, the dirt literally springing him away from Lancer.

"If that hit me, it would've hurt," Harry commented. "I don't suppose you could keep your attacks ranged for now? I hate melee fighters.

Lancer barked out a laugh. "No can do, I'm afraid. I have only a few ranged attacks, and those use a lot of mana. I have to say, I didn't expect you to be this good at fighting close-ranged."

Harry smiled. "Thank you. It means a lot, coming from someone of your caliber."

And Lancer shot at him again, spear held in front ready to pierce Harry's heart. Harry tapped the ground with his foot twice and a wall of earth shot up to block Lancer's strike. The spear cut through the dirt like butter and the wall crumbled, revealing Harry nowhere to be seen.

"Where-" Lancer slammed the tip of his spear into the ground and jumped onto the butt, maintaining his balance in a precarious position. A moment later, fire exploded upwards from the ground, scorching dirt and grass. The flames didn't quite reach Lancer- his spear gave him enough height to avoid the flames.

Lancer jumped down, eyes wildly scanning his surroundings. Left, right, up, down. He couldn't see Harry anywhere.

About thirty feet away, Harry put the last touches on his charms. Using these charms required concentration, so he had to remove himself from the situation for a while. Hopefully, Lancer wouldn't detect him here. He'd only been gone for about 15 seconds.

Harry nodded in satisfaction as he completed his work. Then he Apparated back, startling Lancer.

"Where the hell did you go?" Lancer demanded, warily glancing at the branch held innocently in Harry's hand. "And why are my instincts telling me to stay the hell away from that branch?"

Harry smiled mysteriously but didn't respond. He tossed the branch high into the air at Lancer. Lancer tracked it with his eyes, spear held at the ready.

The branch landed right in front of Lancer and exploded. Lancer twirled his spear in a circle, deflecting all the splinters. When the dust cleared, it showed that Lancer was unscathed. "Is that it?" Lancer taunted. "You think a wood bomb is enough to defeat me?"

"Wood bomb, singular? No." Lancer's eyes filled with fear at Harry's words. Harry smirked and snapped his fingers.

Lancer had enough time for one curse word before all the splinters on the ground exploded again with exponentially more force than before. In the cloud of dust, Harry could see Lancer's red spear everywhere at once, deflecting thousands of bits of wood shards, each with enough force behind it to punch through rock.

The dust cleared once more, revealing Lancer with several tears in his clothing but still no damage to his body. Harry was shocked speechless once more. Lancer had deflected all of the shrapnel with his spear?! The thing was like 7 feet long for Merlin's sake! How was Lancer agile enough to deflect all of the shards?!

Lancer breathed hard, fury in his eyes. "That was a dirty trick. I dislike attacks like those."

"Oh. Well, if you dislike attacks like those, then you must _hate_ this." Harry snapped his fingers again, and the splinters on the ground exploded once more.

This time, Lancer jumped straight up while twirling his spear in a circle underneath him to block all of the shrapnel. "What is _wrong_ with you?! A triple explosion?!"

Harry laughed unashamedly. "In my defense, it worked, didn't it?"

"That's a pretty shitty defense!" The moment Lancer's feet touched the ground, he lunged forward at Harry, spear drawn back for a powerful thrust.

Harry summoned balls of flames in his hands and flooded his body with even more magic, pushing it well beyond its limits.

They exchanged several blows. Lancer slammed his spear down trying to bash Harry's skull in. Harry quickly sidestepped and commanded the dirt to rise up and cocoon the spearhead before charming it unbreakable, trapping the spear firmly in place. He then quickly Apparated behind Lancer to deliver a flame-enhanced palm strike at Lancer's unprotected back.

Lancer analyzed the situation with godlike speeds, quickly abandoning his spear and spinning around to slip past Harry's palm strike. He grabbed Harry's wrist with his right hand and punched upwards at Harry's elbow with his left hand, trying to snap Harry's arm.

Harry quickly elbowed downwards to meet Lancer's punch with his elbow, thus negating the attack. Lancer hissed at the impact (punching an elbow _hurt_) but didn't slow down at all. He brought up his knee to break Harry's ribs. Harry twisted to the side and managed to avoid the blow. He gathered magic in his free hand to shoot fireballs at Lancer's side, but Lancer quickly sensed Harry's intentions and grabbed Harry's hand with his own, redirecting Harry's aim into the ground.

The fireball slammed into the earth, blackening the surface. Harry and Lancer were now in a tangle of limbs, trying to gain the upper hand, when they both froze and locked eyes.

_Do you-_

_Yeah. You?_

_Yeah. Shit._

The nonverbal exchange passed in a millisecond before they quickly disengaged, mutually releasing each other and leaping back. Not a moment too soon. Archer's arrow shot through the space where they had both occupied moments before.

They both turned to look at Archer. He was standing, bow still in hand, staring unabashedly at them. He raised an eyebrow at their accusing looks. Besides him, Shirou and Rin were slowly edging away from Archer.

"Dude!" Harry snapped. "That arrow would've gone straight through my liver if I hadn't dodged it!"

"It's not cool to mess with a 1v1! The hell is wrong with you?" Lancer snarled.

Archer lowered his bow. "I saw an opportunity to end the fight, and I took it. Harry, you may have had an arrow through your liver, but Lancer would've been missing half his head. I would say that's a fair trade."

"That's. . . that's not a fair trade at all! Besides, this is a one-on-one battle! Combat etiquette demands you to sit back and admire the fight, not to interfere in it!" Harry looked back at Lancer. "Hey, man, sorry for my teammate. I didn't know he would do this, I swear."

"No problem. And they call _me_ a savage dog," Lancer groused.

Archer raised his eyebrows. "So you _don't_ require any backup?"

"Of course not! We're having a friendly fight here, not a battle to the death." Harry exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air.

"Hold up," Lancer held up his hand, a frown on his features. "We're _not_ having a battle to the death?"

Lancer and Harry stared at each other for a few seconds. An awkward silence descended over them.

"I thought we weren't," Harry said.

"You surrounded me with explosions. Not once, not twice, but _three_ times. If I had been a little slower, I would've been riddled with holes," Lancer reminded Harry.

"Oh come on. I had complete faith that you could survive them. Wait, does that mean all of your attacks were lethal attacks meant to kill me?"

"Kind of, yeah," Lancer paused. "You thought they weren't?"

"Well, no."

"I'm not sure if that's supposed to be an insult. Although to be fair, I didn't expect you to actually die to any of them." Lancer walked over to his spear still embedded in the ground and yanked it from the dirt. "Archer, stay out of this."

Archer shrugged. "If you insist. Unless you have any objections, Harry?"

"None at all." Harry redirected his attention to Lancer. "So. . . you wanna continue?"

"Yeah, sure."

Harry nodded. "I have a strategy I wish to test out. Good luck, Lancer. I hope you're not particularly fond of having unbroken bones."

Lancer leaped back, backflipping in the air and landing on his knee. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"What does it mean?" Harry's voice came from directly behind Lancer. Lancer whirled around in surprise as Harry's hand shot forward. Lancer blocked it with his elbow, spear already thrusting forward to form a new hole in Harry's stomach, when Harry's grip tightened on Lancer's elbow. And suddenly they were in the air, a hundred, two hundred, a thousand feet up.

"It means try to survive the fall!" Harry yelled to be heard over the wind.

"YOU'RE AN ASSHOLE!" Lancer screamed as they began falling back towards the earth. He tried to stab Harry, slice Harry, pierce Harry, bludgeon Harry, do _anything_ to Harry, but it was too late. Harry had already banished Lancer away before Apparating next to Archer, Rin, and Shirou.

"Did you just teleport him into the air?" Archer squinted. "You did. About a thousand feet up, by my estimations."

"Do you think he can survive the fall?" Shirou asked, an almost confused expression on his face, as if he couldn't believe Harry just did what he did.

"He's a Servant. He should be able to. But still. . . falling from that height can't be healthy for anyone, Servant or not," Rin said in a quiet, almost awed voice.

Harry rubbed the back of his head. "I mean, it's not like there were rules in this fight. Nobody said I couldn't do it."

Archer turned to look at Harry with something akin to admiration in his eyes. "You lose close-combat fights- don't try to deny it, if the fight had continued you would've been beaten- and projectile attacks are useless against Lancer. Not to mention how you're still weakened since you must conserve your wand usage. And so, instead of fighting him head-on, you had the environment fight the battle for you. I'm impressed."

"Thanks," Harry grinned.

They all distinctly heard a "FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU" coming from above.

"Oh. He's getting pretty close to the ground," Harry commented.

Their gazes followed Lancer's flailing form.

"This seems rather cruel," Archer released his bow and it shattered in shards of light. "And yet, it seems so _right_."

Harry chuckled.

Right before Lancer hit the ground, he vanished in a swirl of blue light.

"Oh _come on_!" Harry groaned. "Did he seriously revert back to Spirit Form?"

Archer rubbed his chin. "Come to think of it, that is certainly one method of surviving a fall from a great distance. Once in Spirit Form, physical damage is mostly negated. I didn't expect this sort of complex thinking from Lancer."

"I heard you," Lancer growled, returning to his physical form. His enraged eyes locked with Harry's amused green ones. "That was a cheap and dirty trick."

"In my defense, you said that you wanted a battle to the death."

"A RESPECTABLE battle to the death! A battle where we use our wits, strengths, speed, and ability to fight a beautiful fight, not a battle where you literally _drop_ me from a thousand feet up with an unblockable teleportation technique!"

Harry winced. "When you put it that way, I admit it sounds kinda bad."

"It IS bad." Lancer took a deep breath, instantly calming himself and returning to a tranquil mindset suitable for battle. He lowered himself into a stance once more, his red spear held in front.

"You may have been able to survive before" Lancer said in an intimidating tone, "But not this time."

Harry's eyes widened as he instinctively twisted his body to the side, narrowly avoiding the spear that was suddenly right next to him. Lancer was much faster than before. Where did he gain this speed?

Lancer swiped his spear into Harry's side, fully intent on delivering a bone-crushing blow. There was no time for Harry to counter it. He Apparated back- then Apparated back once more as Lancer lunged forward and stabbed at Harry's head.

Harry gritted his teeth and summoned a large gust of wind to knock the spear aside. It had no effect- Harry could see Lancer's arm muscle bulging as he fought against the wind- and Harry was forced to Apparate backwards once more.

Lancer didn't let up on his relentless barrage. Harry was forced to Apparate away from every thrust since dodging was impossible. If Harry stepped backwards, he would still be within the spear's long range and would receive a stomach slash for his troubles. If Harry sidestepped, then Lancer would turn the thrust into a ferocious swipe that would bash Harry's bones in if it hit. Stepping forward to counterattack. . . well, Harry did _not_ want to step forward and bring him even closer in range with that spear and Lancer.

"Will you," Lancer grunted, releasing a flurry of swings that Harry simply Apparated backwards even more to avoid, "stop teleporting and stand still?"

Harry didn't even have the time to reply as he was forced to Apparate once more. Lancer was fighting at a much higher level than before. He was faster and stronger. Where the hell did he get all of this energy from?

Harry Apparated a solid 30 feet away from Lancer and commanded the trees around them to grow alive. Branches extended to form a living forest between Lancer and Harry.

"How did you improve in such a short span of time?" Harry asked, breathing heavily.

Lancer smirked. "My Master had used a Command Seal to force me to not fight at my fullest potential in my first battle. I'm free to fight at full intensity in any subsequent battles, however. And it just so happened that you teleporting me a thousand feet away was enough to. . . reset the fight, so to speak. As a result, I'm currently on my second battle with you, thus allowing me to give you a taste of my full power."

"So basically what you're saying is that me teleporting you into the air only benefited you?" Harry said disbelievingly.

Lancer grinned. "Yeah."

"Huh. You're welcome." Harry's breathing rate returned to normal quickly. The branches, which had been writhing like a mass of snakes between them, shot forward above Lancer. Harry quickly applied more and more charms to his hasty transfiguration to make it more powerful, his hand glowing with every charm cast.

The branches enlarged over Lancer's head, hovering menacingly, quickly blocking out the moonlight. It was like a tsunami of wood had materialized in the park. There was no way Lancer could deflect this all with his spear.

It's over. Harry brought his hand down in one dramatic arc and the wood exploded into motion, shooting down, ready to crash and pierce through Lancer.

"Time out."

The wood stopped inches in front of Lancer as Harry hurriedly canceled his charms. "What is it?" The branches receded to create a small hole for Lancer's face.

"My Master sensed me fighting," Lancer said with a distasteful look on his face. "He's ordered me to return."

"Oof. That must suck," Harry sympathized. "I'm assuming you don't like him very much?"

"He's a coward. That's all I'll say. Well, Sorcerer, as much as I would like to continue our fight, I'm afraid I have to leave." Lancer turned around, spear casually slung over his shoulder. "I'll fight you later," he promised.

"See ya," Harry waved farewell as Lancer's form disappeared in a blur of speed.

"Why did you let him go?" Archer walked forward to stand next to Harry. He gazed disappointedly down at Harry. "You shouldn't have stopped your attack."

Harry stared at Archer. "He called a 'time out'."

Archer stared back at Harry. "Calling a 'time out' is enough for you to stop your attack?"

Harry cracked his knuckles. "If I'm fighting against someone I truly wish to defeat, someone who harms innocent and must be put down for the Greater Good, I'll do whatever it takes. Fortunately, Lancer isn't a heartless monster, so I have no issues in stopping when he calls a 'time out.' After all, not stopping would be top-tier asshole behavior."

Archer shook his head bemusedly. "You are one odd fellow. Do us all a favor and next time, just let the branches skewer him. It'll be much easier for all of us if he just died."

Harry smiled. "If you say so." He liked Lancer though. Lancer's intentions were pure: he just wanted a good fight. Harry could respect that ideology.

"That fight. Was. Amazing," Shirou walked up beside them. "You dodged all of Lancer's attacks- and I could barely even see half of them!"

"He dodged them by cheating," Rin was one step behind Shirou. "I don't think your teleportation is fair."

Harry shrugged. "Teleportation could be easily countered as long as you know how." Countering _Fading_ was the difficult part. "It's not my fault Lancer only used physical attacks. Besides, I'm already at a disadvantage without being able to fully utilize my wand."

The battle would've gone down much more differently if Harry had been able to use his full arsenal of spells. Sadly, that wasn't the case.

Archer turned around, back facing them. "Harry, I have just one word of advice for you."

Harry inclined his head. "Yes?"

A roguish grin spread across Archer's face. "Don't tell Saber about what just happened." And he disappeared, reverting back to Spirit Form.

Ohhhhh shit. Harry doubted Saber would understand the term "letting enemies leave."Harry glanced nervously at Rin and Shirou. "Promise you won't tell?"

Rin capitalized on the opening immediately. "What are you willing to give us in exchange for our silence?"

Harry fixed her with a hard stare. She beamed at him. A battle of wills began.

Harry lost. And yet, he refused to be defeated. And so, he took the route where Rin would lose too. "Whatever. I'll tell Saber."

Rin pouted. "You're no fun."

Harry raised his left eyebrow. "And you call blackmailing me _fun_?"

Rin smiled. "Definitely."

XxX

Thankfully, the rest of the walk back passed without any incidents.

Oddly enough, Fujimura was already standing outside, staring off into the distance, a slightly confused look on her face.

"Fuji-nee? Why are you outside?" Shirou asked once they came into earshot.

Fujimura turned to him, surprised. "Shirou, you're back."

Harry looked around. There was no one else to be seen. "Is there something wrong?"

Fujimura slowly shook her head. "No, nothing's wrong."

Shirou frowned. "Why are you out here then?"

"Sakura's grandfather just came to walk her home. I'm afraid she can't sleep over anymore."

Shirou smiled, relieved. "That's it? For a moment, I thought something serious happened."

"Yeah, but the thing is, he just looked so. . . _grotesque._ His appearance was completely unnatural," Fujimura said.

"You can't say stuff like that!" Shirou yelped, looking around them. "He's old, that's all. Don't make fun of other people's appearances!"

Fujimura smiled uncertainly. "I guess you're right."

Shirou rubbed his hands together. "It's cold outside. Come on, let's go in. I'll make hotpot tonight."

Fujimura's uncertain expression melted into an eager one. "Yes! Hotpot!"

She enthusiastically followed Shirou inside, leaving Harry standing outside with Rin.

"You said the Matous was a mage family. What are the odds that Sakura's grandfather is a mage?"

"He is a mage," Rin answered. "I've heard of him before. Matou Zouken. He's centuries old, and has been around since the founding of the Holy Grail War."

Harry blinked, a little shocked. "Centuries? Damn, that's a long time."

Wizards aged a lot slower than muggles. Magic extends the lifespan. Even so, there weren't a lot of wizards who lived to 2 centuries, even less that lived to 3.

"And you're sure that Sakura would be safe with him?"

Although he shouldn't judge this "Zouken" solely on a secondhand account of his appearance. One of the first lessons Harry learned was to never judge others on their looks. Prejudice leads to nothing but disaster. It's a pity most wizards never understood that.

Zouken could be a shriveled hunched-over gray old man with soulless black eyes for all Harry cared. It's his character that truly matters.

Of course, he doubted his mental image of Zouken matched with the real deal, but until they met face to face, he's going to keep the image as it is.

"Sakura's safe with the Matous," Rin dismissed with a wave of her hand.

Harry smiled. "Good."

He turned around and walked into the compound. Rin mumbled something under her breath.

Harry looked back at her. "I'm sorry? I didn't quite hear you."

"Huh? Oh, it's nothing."

Harry didn't think it was "nothing." In fact, it sounded like Rin had whispered "she had to be."

He wasn't certain, however. Concern made its way onto Harry's gaze.

Rin smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, it's nothing. Come on, let's go in. Tell me, Harry, have you ever eaten hotpot before?"

"I have not," Harry confessed.

"No way," Rin breathed. She grabbed his hand and dragged him inside. "You have much to learn, Harry, and I have much to teach."

Harry chuckled. "Very well then, _Master_."

"I'm glad to see you finally understand the dynamics of our relationship. Now, lesson one is: the hotter it is, the better it tastes. I hope you can eat spicy, Harry."

Harry gulped, already mentally rehearsing the Soothing Charm. He had a feeling he'll need it tonight.

XxX

"I hear you have two new friends, Sakura," Zouken rasped out, leaning on his walking stick.

"Y-yes, grandfather. Saber and Harry. They're very nice," Sakura said softly.

"Is that so?" Zouken could feel the excited buzzing of his worms within him. Rider had already informed Shinji who had informed him of Shirou's Servant's powers.

Instantaneous teleportation. Zouken may be old, but he also had accumulated vast amounts of knowledge.

Pure Spatial Transference. True Magic. A Sorcerer has entered the battlefield.

Zouken had been willing to sit out this war, content with just observing. But with a Sorcerer thrown in the mix. . .

Well, he had no choice but to get involved. The Sorcerer may have a method of extending his life or even- dare he hope- the secrets of immortality. And Zouken will rip that knowledge from him with any means necessary.

"Grandfather? Are you alright?" Sakura hesitantly inquired.

Zouken froze. There was a weird sensation on his face. He gently touched his cheek.

Was he. . . smiling?

Zouken let out several harsh sounds. Sakura winced, shrinking into herself.

"I'm alright, Sakura," Zouken laughed. "In fact, I'm better than ever. When we arrive at home, tell me everything you know about your new friends."

"But. . . "

"I'll tolerate no arguments, Sakura," Zouken commented idly. "Perhaps a night in the pit will make you more agreeable. Or should I just let Shinji have his way with you?"

Sakura flinched. "T-there's no need. I'll tell you everything you want to know."

"Much better," Zouken purred. He wouldn't be sleeping tonight. He had too much to do. There were plans to be made and pawns to be manipulated. Not to mention how he has to figure out how to summon a Servant when all 7 has already been summoned. It shouldn't be too hard, but it will take some time to work out a way.

Zouken sighed, the rattling noise bouncing around in his lungs. Nobody understood how hard it was to be Matou Zouken.

* * *

**You guys are amazing. We hit 1000 followers the other day. I don't even know what to say. When I first wrote this, I had never expected it to be enjoyed by so many. **

**Harry Potter is from an AU. He was trained by Dumbledore at 5 years old, which meant he was only at the Dursleys for 4 years. What sane family would have a 4 year old who can't even reach the countertop cook? Even the Dursleys can't have been that bad.**

**Rin didn't attack Shinji when she found out he created the Bounded Field because she didn't think he'd be stupid enough to activate it with a Sorcerer just a few classrooms away. She doesn't think he's a threat.**

**Harry directly counters Lancer. There's very little he can do against someone who can teleport away from all of his attacks. When Lancer was thrown into the air, the reason why he didn't use his ultimate Gae Bolg was that he was still under the influence of the Command Seal. **

**As for Harry's nonchalance towards Lancer, well. Harry just likes Lancer. They're similar; Harry doesn't like to admit it, but he too is addicted to danger and the prospect of a good fight. **

**We're diverging from UBW. Zouken is getting involved. Oh, the plans I have for Zouken. He's eerily similar to Voldemort, and I'm already anticipating writing Voldemort's reaction to Zouken. This is no longer UBW or HF or Fate. This is the Sorcerer route. **

**That's it for now. **

**Thank you all for reading, and please review :)**

**euphoric**


	6. Servant

The heat was almost tangible in the air. Steam rose up from the boiling pot in the center of the table.

Harry Potter chewed contentedly on a piece of meat. This "hot pot" concept was actually really cool. A pot of continually boiling water was in the center of the table. Plates of vegetables and raw meat lay to the side, and whenever someone wanted to have a piece, they'd toss the food into the boiling water and wait for it to cook.

Harry made sure to stay far away from the pot, kneeling at the far end of the table. He consciously drew in his magic so as to not agitate the electrical pot and cause an incident.

Rin suddenly clapped her hands together loudly, startling everyone.

"It's time," she announced. Harry's eyebrows rose in anticipation. Rin brought out an innocent-looking jar filled with a red sauce from under the table.

"This is the pinnacle of my research," Rin removed the lid. "Its spiciness will overwhelm you. Come, have a taste."

"Wait," Shirou leaned forward, confusion written on his face. "Where did you get that sauce from? How did you make it? I didn't see you in the kitchen at all tonight."

"I kept it in my bag," Rin said.

"You brought spicy sauce for your stay over?" Shirou asked with a judging stare.

"I didn't think you'd have any that were up to my standards," Rin defended. "Stop looking at me like that! It's perfectly normal for me to bring around spicy sauce!"

"It's not," Harry supplied helpfully, sipping the perfectly seasoned soup from his spoon.

Rin shot him a scathing glare that contrasted with the slight red dusting her cheeks. "Do you guys want any or not? Except you, Harry. You don't have a choice. Here, take some"

Harry chuckled. "Alright." He held out his bowl and Rin poured copious amounts of the red sauce into it.

"I'll have some too," Shirou held out his bowl also.

"As will I," Saber said, holding out her bowl.

"Ooh, give me some too," Fujimura waved her bowl around. Miraculously, nothing spilled out.

Rin smiled. "You'll love it."

After pouring the spicy sauce into everyone's bowl, Rin sat back, dipped some lettuce into her own sauce, and crunched down on it, observing everyone's reactions.

Shirou took the first bite, slowly chewing on a piece of ultra-thin sliced beef dipped in the spicy sauce. He jolted back in surprise. "The seasoning is intense, but this is really good!" He took another bite, then another, quickly finishing off the piece of beef.

"Oh? I'm glad," Rin grinned. Her gaze swiveled to the rest of them, passing over Harry and Fujimura before resting on Saber. Rin blinked before her grin grew even wider.

Saber had not said anything. She couldn't say anything, because she was shoveling food into her mouth at an incredible rate. Her chopsticks seemed to literally blur as she dipped various pieces of meat and vegetables into the sauce and bit down, all the while not getting any food on the table or on her clothes.

One of these days, Harry was going to figure out where all of the calories went. One day.

"Do you like it, Saber?" Rin asked rhetorically, already knowing the answer.

Saber simply shot Rin a double thumbs-up before going back to the food.

Well, if they enjoyed it, surely it can't be that bad, right? Harry tentatively dipped the meat into the sauce and took a bite.

It was spicy. Definitely one of the spiciest things Harry had ever eaten- though the list wasn't very long. It burned.

Harry applied a quick Soothing charm to his tongue just so it wouldn't hurt too much. Call it cheating, but while Harry could take physical and mental pain like a boss, Harry had never really conditioned his tongue to be immune to spicy foods.

He knew it was possible to gain immunity, since every time you ate spicy food, you'd become a little more resistant, but he hadn't had the chance to eat too much spicy food. Bacon, eggs, porridge, toast, braised beef, mashed potatoes, muffins, and many other dishes had been served at Hogwarts, but barely any had been very spicy, much to the dismay of the Patil twins.

"It's good," Harry complimented. "It's unexpectedly good."

"What do you mean by unexpectedly?" Rin crossed her arms.

"I don't eat spicy food all that much. I expected it to be a lot worse," Harry answered.

Rapid panting sounds reached his ears. "Water," Fujimura croaked out.

Shirou handed her a cup of tea. "You okay, Fuji-nee?"

Fujimura gratefully accepted the cup, gulping it all down. "Thanks, Shirou. That was really really really spicy. I think I'll stick to plain hot pot for now on. Sorry, Rin."

"No worries, Fujimura-sensei," Rin smiled.

Saber set down her empty bowl. Was she finished eating already? There's no way. Harry was proven correct a moment later when Saber dropped even more meat into the boiling point. Saber then looked up towards Rin with a satisfied expression. "The sauce gives the food just the right amount of heat. Good work, Rin. You have my approval."

Naturally, Saber would approve. Dragons breathed out fire, and Saber had dragon heartstrings implanted in her body. Eating food that would set your tongue aflame is literally in Saber's blood.

Come to think of it, was Saber fire resistant like most dragons were? Harry would have to test that out.

"Harry, why aren't you affected?" Shirou asked in between bites.

Harry finished chewing before tilting his head questioningly. "What do you mean?"

"You're not sweating. You're not sniffling. Your face isn't even a bit red. There's no indication that you think this is spicy at all. I thought you didn't eat a lot of spicy food."

"I don't," Harry answered truthfully.

Rin's jaw dropped. Fortunately, she hadn't been eating anything, so Harry was not treated to the sight of half-chewed food. He'd had enough of that during his time at Hogwarts.

"You. . . you can't be. But you are, aren't you?" Rin accused. "You don't feel the heat at all, right? Is this because of your. . . extracurriculars?!"

"Yup" Harry confirmed with a nod.

"That's cheating! You're cheating!" Rin cried.

Harry smiled. "If you're not cheating, you're not trying."

Rin narrowed her eyes. "Cancel it out now. Otherwise, you won't fully understand the deliciousness."

"Sorry, no can do. It would take another couple of hours before it wears off," Harry lied. He was willing to do many things, but subjecting his tongue to liquid fire was not one of them.

Rin glared before relenting. "Fine. Next time, though."

"What extracurriculars is she talking about? Before what wears off?" Fujimura interjected suspiciously, squinting at Harry. "Are you taking drugs?"

Harry bemusedly raised his eyebrows at Fujimura. Why is it that she always somehow arrived at the worst conclusions? FIrst she thought they were having a four-way. Now she suspects him of taking drugs. It's almost as if she grew up in a criminal family, or something.

"I would never take drugs," Harry affirmed. "Rin's merely talking about my. . . meditation. You see, I'm currently meditating to. . . ignore the pain."

Harry mentally facepalmed immediately after. Rin, Saber, and Shirou all shot him incredulous looks.

That excuse wasn't exactly the best. In fact, it was probably one of his worst. There's no way Fujimura would buy it-

"I never knew meditation could do that," Fujimura contemplated. "I'll have to learn it someday. Maybe then I can finally eat spicy foods."

She bought it.

. . . well then.

The sound of rapid chewing drew Harry's attention. It appeared that Saber's food had finished cooking, and she was consuming it ravenously.

Harry wondered what would happen if he brought Saber along to an all-you-can-eat buffet. It would definitely be an. . . interesting sight. Perhaps after the War was over. Assuming, of course, that he'll be able to stay in this world.

XxX

Harry paced the clearing in Shirou's compound. He was mentally replaying the day's events, and no matter how he looked at it, the conclusion was clear.

He may have made a big mistake in letting Shinji leave.

At the time, it seemed to be an easy decision. Shinji was scum, but he was still young. Redemption was a possibility.

Most importantly, Shirou had told Harry to not pursue Shinji. That was the main reason why Harry hadn't hunted Shinji down. He respected Shirou's wishes, and he would follow them.

Besides, Harry couldn't exactly blame Shinji for what he's done so far.

After all, Shinji was a powerless kid thrown into a death battle. Harry could sympathize with that- the same thing had happened to him with the Triwizard Tournament. Shinji was powerless, Rin had already confirmed that. When surrounded and at risk of being attacked by literal legends, it's understandable when the moral line blurs a bit.

When Harry may not have liked what Shinji and his Servant had done, he couldn't exactly blame him. It must've been terrifying to have been thrust unwillingly into an unknown situation, completely at the mercy of attackers far stronger than him. You gotta do what you gotta do to survive.

And for Shinji, his only hope for survival was Rider, and if it meant Rider draining innocents. . . While it was a deplorable act, it was understandable. Besides, it wasn't lethal; the girl, Mitsuzuri, had woken up. So at least Shinji hadn't completely crossed the line.

Besides, there was always the possibility that Rider did the draining of her own accord in order to remain in the world. And if she decided to do that, then there was nothing Shinji could do to stop her. Besides using his Command Seals, of course, but given that Shinji probably _wanted _Rider to remain in the world, he wouldn't have used them.

Shinji hadn't asked to join the War. Just like Shirou, he had had no choice. Shinji, irritating and provoking as he may be, was a victim here.

Harry killed evil in the world for the Greater Good. Lancer, Caster, Shinji, Illya. . . they weren't true evil. Not even close.

Shinji may be scum, but he hasn't actually showcased any real malicious intent. He hasn't gone out for the sole purpose of hurting others. He hasn't even killed anyone yet. So far, his every action, even though it may have hurt others, had been purely defensive.

If Harry went around killing everybody that were scum, then half of the world's politicians would be dead.

Those were Harry's reasons for letting Shinji leave. But now that he actually thought about it, he may have made a big mistake.

He let logic dictate his actions too much. He let his memory of being thrown unceremoniously into the Triwizard Tournament dictate his actions too much. Above all, he let Shirou's request of leaving Shinji alone dictate his actions too much.

Because he had made one critical error. Lancer, Caster, Illya, and every other participant he'd met so far in the War. . . his intuition had remained calm and composed. When he had met Shinji, his intuition had been _screaming_ at him.

Harry had ignored it, because what can one teenage kid still in school do? What evil, deplorable act could he have committed?

But the fact that his intuition had set off so many red flags when he had met Shinji. . . Well, even meeting _Berserker_, who had been literally mad, hadn't set off any red flags_._

Harry hadn't really reflected on it at the time, but now that he actually thought about it, there had to be something deeply _wrong _about Shinji.

Harry stopped pacing around and nodded to himself. He made up his mind.

Tomorrow, he'll take Shinji out of the War. He may not kill Shinji. He probably won't; Shinji was still a teenager, after all, and he hasn't done anything too bad yet. But Harry will definitely remove Shinji from the War situation.

People do terrible things when they're desperate and their lives are on the line. Harry just has to ensure that Shinji is no longer in a death battle where morals are cast aside for the sake of survival.

Killing Rider might work. Harry was fairly certain that once the Servant has died, there's no point in the Master continuing fighting. He could also try to extract Shinji's Command Seals. However, both of those methods would be difficult.

The simplest solution is that Harry would simply Apparate Shinji to some isolated location to prevent him from returning to Japan to fight in the War.

Harry heard that North Korea was particularly nice this time of year.

XxX

Illya hummed a happy tune to herself as she walked along the streets. She walked with a small skip, and there was a little smile on her face.

"Berserker," she said happily. "Are you ready?"

Berserker didn't respond. He never did. Speech was well out of his grasp, mad as he is. He could, however, send brief flashes of emotion, and Illya felt anticipation and a small thirst for revenge.

Revenge for what, Illya didn't know.

"We're going to be meeting Harry Potter again tonight," Illya's smile grew wider at the thought.

Strangely, the feeling of revenge only grew stronger at the mention of Harry.

"And, not only that, but we're also going to meet Onii-chan again."

Illya's smile dimmed a little as her artificial heart clenched from the pain of betrayal that always seemed to come up whenever she thought about Onii-chan. The pain came less from the thought of Onii-chan himself and more from the person she associated with him.

Why hadn't Kiritsugu visited her? Why had he abandoned her?

He promised her.

He promised.

Berserker seemed to sense her inner turmoil, because he hesitantly patted the top of Illya's head with a hand bigger than the head itself. His face, while it didn't exactly smile, seemed to be comforting.

Illya smiled. "Thanks, Berserker."

No words were said, but Illya somehow felt the Berserker's message.

_Anything for you._

"We're going to be fighting a Sorcerer. This time, Berserker, it's going to be different. We're going to _win_."

Berserker roared out in agreement. "AARRRGGGHHHHH-"

"SHHH," Illya waved her hands frantically at him. "Not so loud! We're outside right now!"

Berserker shrinked into himself. ". . . arrghh?"

"Much better. Onwards! Let us go defeat him!" Illya pointed forwards towards the Emiya residence. The residence she should've lived at with Kiritsugu-

She shook her head. No. Illya resolved to not think of him anymore tonight. He's not going to ruin this night. Like she had done so many times before, Illya cast Kiritsugu into a deep dark corner of her mind.

The Sorcerer would be defeated tonight by Berserker. There was no way that Berserker would lose. Because Berserker was strong.

Once the Sorcerer has been thoroughly defeated. . . well, there's no rule that says he must be killed right away.

Harry Potter was interesting. Harry Potter was nice. Harry Potter had saved her.

Illya wouldn't mind keeping him around for a bit.

XxX

Caster stared down at her hands.

She had failed.

The Sorcerer couldn't do a single thing for her. Caster was forced to stick to her original plan- a plan that may not work just because of how strong the other Servants were. Especially Berserker. Now he was someone she didn't want to fight. Because if she did, there was a very good chance that she would die.

She didn't want to die. Not again. Not when she's finally found someone who truly loved her.

One memory nagged at her. One persistent memory that just wouldn't go away.

"_Incompatible? Well, no matter. Do you know how to attain immortality?" _

_Harry Potter's stony face stared at her. "I do, but all the methods require me doing things that I will not do. Humans aren't meant to be immortal. Do not ever try it. That is my only warning to you. You won't like the results."_

Harry Potter knew the secrets of immortality.

Caster had hoped for a way to attain a new body. Instead, Harry Potter revealed that he knew the secrets of immortality.

She had looked for an olive branch, but found golden drachmas instead.

Caster materialized Rule Breaker in her hands, staring down at it.

She wanted Harry Potter as a Servant. He may not have been a conventional Servant, but he still had Command Seals binding him. Which meant there was still a binding contract, no matter how faint and unusual it may be.

Rule Breaker nullifies all magic.

A smile spread across Caster's face. That would do. She'll make Harry Potter hers, force him to reveal the secrets of immortality, and have him defeat Berserker.

She wanted Saber too. Caster looked around her room. Multiple Saber figurines stared back at her, products of her magecraft. Her gaze fell upon her closet, where many outfits were stored. Saber would look so _cute_ dressed up in them-

Caster coughed. Of course, Saber would also assist Harry Potter in defeating Berserker. She wasn't confident enough in the Sorcerer's abilities to think that he alone could defeat Berserker.

Heracles was just that strong. There was a reason why she stayed as far away from him as possible.

She had heard about his heroic deeds even before she had met the Argonauts. She had met him on the Argo. They hadn't mixed well.

He was one person she did not want to fight.

Fortunately, within the temple, Caster was safe from Berserker. She had the home field advantage, not to mention how Assassin was also guarding the entrance- though Caster honestly doubted he could even touch Berserker.

Unfortunately, she couldn't stay within the temple. She could try to lure Harry and Saber here by controlling Shirou, but she doubted the spell would work. Harry would cancel it the moment he sensed it.

So what could she do?

She could try to sneak attack, but Harry Potter's teleportation was far superior to her own. She doubted she could take him by surprise. She couldn't even do anything to Saber because Saber would just block Rule Breaker with her godlike reflexes.

Which meant. . .

She had to draw the Sorcerer into the temple through different means. When Caster had been observing them, she had noticed a certain purple-haired girl with the group. If Caster remembered correctly, Sakura was her name. The Tohsaka girl had said it when they walked to school in the morning.

She had no mana that Caster could sense- a rarity among humans. She must be exceptionally weak, much weaker than even the average human.

Hitting her with a sleeping spell and taking her hostage shouldn't be difficult at all. She's sure that the Sorcerer would come. And when he does enter the temple. . . well. She'll have the home turf advantage, to say the least.

Yes, that would work. That would work indeed.

She'll kidnap Sakura tomorrow. For now, she'll prepare the temple for the upcoming battle.

If people were astonished by her power normally, then they'd be _thunderstruck_ at what she could do when she had time to prepare.

XxX

"What happened to no contact?" Kotomine asked exasperatedly.

"It was self-defense" Lancer replied automatically. "He attacked first."

"I'm sure," Kotomine sighed tiredly. "At least he spared your life. It would've been a pain if you had died."

"Thanks, I'm feeling the love here."

"I don't love you," Kotomine stared blankly at Lancer.

". . . it was an expression- you know what? Nevermind. Just. . . nevermind." Lancer turned around and began heading out again. "Call me if you need me."

"Lancer," Kotomine called.

Lancer stopped, turning back around in surprise. "What?" He asked bluntly.

"I need you to check something for me," Kotomine's eyes unfocused for a second before sharpening. "Find out what Harry Potter's plans are for. . . peace."

"Peace?" Lancer tilted his head. "Very well then. Anything else?"

"That is all," Kotomine dismissed.

He watched Lancer leave with a peculiar look in his eyes.

Gilgamesh was out right now. Kotomine didn't know where he was, and he didn't particularly care either. The King of Heroes came and went as he pleased, and let the heavens help those who try to stop him.

No, what Kotomine did care about was Harry Potter. Why had he let Lancer live? Why hadn't he killed Lancer?

Kotomine had no doubt in his mind that if Harry Potter truly wished it, he could absolutely _destroy_ Lancer. So why hadn't he?

Unless Harry Potter had an ulterior motive. Unless Harry Potter was more than he seemed.

Unless Harry Potter was who Kotomine thought he was.

Kirei Kotomine really really _really _hoped that was the case. Because if it was. . . well. Gilgamesh had always told him that a soul naturally seeks pleasure.

And if that pleasure comes from others' pain and suffering, so be it.

XxX

Harry strolled into the dojo, already hearing the sound of wood hitting wood.

"You're improving, Shirou," Harry observed.

"Thank yo-" Shirou's words ended in a painful grunt as Saber stabbed the tip of the wooden sword into his stomach. He was pushed back several feet.

"In a battle, never take your eyes off of the enemy. Never get distracted. Only speak when you're confident that you're not in any danger," Saber lectured.

"I was responding to Harry!" Shirou protested.

"Yeah, I always try not to attack when my enemies are talking to others. It's basic politeness," Harry chimed in.

"Nevertheless," Saber said, "Not all enemies would be like you, Harry."

"Fair enough. Oh, don't stop on my account. Continue." Harry sat down cross-legged on the wooden floor, watching Shirou get slammed around. It was oddly entertaining.

. . . was this a sign of sadism? Nah, there's no way. It's perfectly normal to enjoy seeing people get hit around.

After a while, Harry heard footsteps approaching. Judging from the type of shoes, walking pace, and rhythm, it was Rin.

His guess was confirmed a moment later when Rin stepped into the dojo.

"Oh? Shirou, you're learning swordsmanship?" Rin asked.

Shirou let out a deep breath. "Yeah, I am-" He blocked Saber's sudden thrust, knocking her wooden sword to the side.

Saber smiled. "Good job. You're learning."

Shirou smiled back, wiping some sweat off his forehead. "Thanks."

"And I thought you were going to learn some magecraft with me," Rin crossed her arms.

"Sorry, but I can only really do Reinforcement. I suck at everything else," Shirou said dejectedly.

"That's unfortunate. Although I probably wouldn't have taught you any of the advanced techniques, because I have to keep it within the family. In fact, it's better that you're learning swordsmanship. This way, there's nothing limiting you from becoming the best." Rin sat down next to Harry, leaning her head onto her hand.

That's right. The mages of this world kept their techniques secret from others, passing it down in the form of Magic Crests.

"How were you trained?" Harry asked Rin.

"Hmm?" Rin looked at him. Her blue eyes seemed to glow, then dim. "My father trained me."

As Harry suspected. Instead of going to a magical school, magecraft was taught by family members.

"I see."

"How were you trained?"

"When I was five years old, my teacher Dumbledore began teaching me magic until I was eleven, when I began formal magical schooling at Hogwarts, with private lessons from Dumbledore nearly every day."

Harry still didn't understand how Dumbledore found the time to be able to train Harry every day while keeping on top of his duties as Supreme Mugwump, Chief Warlock, and Headmaster of Hogwarts. His time management techniques was state-of-art.

"That's interesting. So magic wasn't kept within a family, instead freely shared?" There was a hint of disbelief in Rin's tone, as if she still couldn't wrap her mind around the concept.

"Not all magic was freely shared, but most was. Only the Darkest, most foul magics were concealed from the public." By Dumbledore and Harry. "Families did have their own secret magic, but most of it was Dark, and couldn't be used anyhow because it had been outlawed."

"Outlawed? So there was a government, right? In fact, hadn't you mentioned a 'British Ministry of Magic' and an 'International Confederation of Wizards' when you first arrived in this world?"

Rin's memory was good.

"Yup. Although the primary purpose of the government was to prevent the discovery of magic."

There were a few regulatory departments as well as the law enforcement, but the Ministry itself was instituted primarily to prevent Muggles from ever discovering magic.

The ICW also focused on regulating trade and maintaining peace among the different Ministries, but its main purpose was to enforce the Statute of Secrecy and ensure that every country was doing its part.

After all, if one country fails in its job of keeping magic secret, then the whole world would know. If there's one thing every magical community agrees on, it's that Muggles knowing that magic exists would be a massive pain to deal with.

"Is the power of your spells also diminished if more people are using it?" Rin asked.

Harry frowned. "What?"

"When we cast spells and such, there is an energy source with a predetermined fixed amount of energy that we draw from. As such, the more people that use the magecraft, the weaker it becomes because the energy must be split among more people," Rin explained.

Harry stared. "What?" He repeated.

"What do you mean by 'what?' This is the main reason why we conceal our existence from mundane folks. We have to limit the amount of people that draw upon the energy at a time." Rin fidgeted under Harry's stare. "Why, what's wrong?"

"That's so. . . _wrong_. A predetermined fixed energy source?! Magic becoming weaker the more people that know it?" Harry waved his hands around, growing increasingly frantic. "What kind of broken system is that?!"

"It's not broken," Rin defended. "Are you saying that the strength of a spell doesn't diminish the more people that use it?"

"Of course not! That would be ridiculous," Harry ran his hand through his hair. "Oh man. That must be tough for you guys. The next thing you know, you'll be telling me that the mana around you is limited."

"It is. . ."

Harry threw up his hands. "Why am I not surprised?"

"I mean, mana is a non-renewable resource. I'm sure that's a foreign concept to you, Mr. I-have-unlimited-prana," Rin crossed her arms. "Now _that's _a broken system. You can literally cast spells all day."

"Wizards still feel fatigue, you know. We can't cast it _all_ day." Physical and mental exhaustion were the only things that limit a wizard's ability to cast magic.

Sadly, magic has yet to be able to allow wizards to go without sleep or rest. Or conjure food, for that matter.

Harry still didn't understand why you couldn't conjure food. It was such a strange exception.

A loud thud drew both of their attention. Shirou had landed on his back. Saber was holding his sword in her other hand. She had disarmed him.

"Rise, Shirou. Guard your left better. You have a tendency to overextend by half an inch whenever blocking a downward diagonal slash from the left. That creates an opening for an enemy to capitalize on," Saber analyzed.

"Really? I never noticed," Shirou got up, catching the tossed sword easily in his hand. "Once more?"

"Yes." Saber was about to rush Shirou when Harry stood up.

"Hold on a second," Harry said. "Shirou, can I see your sword please?"

"Huh? Yeah, why?" Shirou handed Harry the wooden sword.

"Typically, I wouldn't do this to an experienced swordsman- or swordswoman- because they're already accustomed to the weight of the sword and any changes could mess them up. However, with a novice like you who doesn't even have his own blade yet, this could work" As Harry spoke, he concentrated before tapping the wooden sword twice.

There wasn't any light emitted, but suddenly Harry felt as if he was holding nothing at all. Harry handed the sword back to Shirou.

"What did you do- whoa!" Shirou examined the sword with unfiltered fascination. "I can't even feel this! It's so light!" He waved around the sword experimentally. He was faster than before, much faster.

Harry smiled. "It's the classic Featherlight charm. It reduces the mass of an object."

Rin stood up also, her hand outstretched in a "give me" gesture. "Shirou. Give it. Now."

Shirou obediently handed the sword to her. Rin took it with a satisfied smile, examining it critically before waving it around. She sliced the air a few times, then stabbed it once.

"True Magic is amazing." Rin offered the sword back to Harry.

Harry summoned the sword to his hand. "Yeah, I know right? Magic is awesome."

"May I?" Saber asked.

"Certainly," Harry handed her the sword.

Saber weighed it in her hand stepping away from them. She held the sword in front of her and closed her eyes, taking a deep, controlled breath. Then her eyes snapped open and she let loose a flurry of slashes and strikes at an imaginary enemy.

"It's too light," Saber handed the sword back to Shirou. "Harry, you're correct in that it would only mess me up. Please, do not use that charm on my sword."

"I won't," Harry assured. "Anyways, Shirou, that should give you an unfair advantage over your enemies. All you have to do is to get your reaction speed up so you can utilize your speed to the fullest."

Shirou stabbed the sword several times. "Yup. Oh, this is unfair. It's _so_ light. When will the charm wear off?"

"It'll only wear off when I either cancel the charm or die. I can make the charm permanent with runes, if you'd like," Harry offered.

"Nah, it's fine. I won't be fighting with a wooden sword. I'm only practicing with this," Finished testing it out, Shirou turned to face Saber again. Saber readied her own sword as well.

"Wait," Harry stopped them once more. "Before you get too beat up, let's go over our strategy first. "

"Very well," Saber sat down across from Rin and Harry. After a slight moment's hesitation, Shirou reluctantly placed down his sword and sat down as well. Harry smiled at that. Shirou must've really wanted to test the sword out in battle.

"First things first, let's talk about Shinji Matou," Harry said.

"Who's Shinji Matou?" Saber inquired.

"Curly blue hair, Master of Rider, irritating nuisance," Harry summarized. "Shirou, I don't know what your relationship with him is, but my intuition is telling me that he's bad news. I ignored it this afternoon, and that was my bad. I won't be making the same mistake again."

Shirou sighed. "He was once a good friend, you know? It's just that. . . he's changed."

"People change. It is an unfortunate reality of life, no matter how much we wish for it to not be true," Saber said.

"Indeed. At first, I thought about simply killing Shinji," Harry stated.

"That escalated quickly," Rin muttered.

"You can't kill him! He may not be the nicest person, but that doesn't mean he should be killed!" Shirou objected.

"Relax, I have no intentions of ending his life," Harry placated. "There's still a chance that he could turn around. Redemption isn't out of the question yet. Shinji hasn't done anything _too _bad."

Harry wouldn't give pure evil a second chance. Thankfully, Shinji has yet to reach that level and as such, Harry would give Shinji a second chance to redeem himself.

Just one, though. There would be no third chance. Harry was nice, but not that nice.

"What will you do to him then?" There was an anticipating gleam in Rin's eyes.

"Here's how I see it. Shinji, a powerless kid, has been unwillingly thrown into a terrifying death battle situation. I can't exactly blame him for what he's done so far- people do terrible things when their lives are on the line. As such, I must remove Shinji from this situation."

"How will you remove Shinji? Will you knock him into a coma? Perhaps break every bone in his body and curse him to not be able to be healed until the completion of the War?" Rin asked. "Better yet, curse him to not be healed, ever?"

Harry stared at Rin, slightly disturbed. "Why are your methods all so cruel?"

"Because that's what he deserves," Rin smiled dangerously. Harry gulped. She must still not be over what Shinji had said this afternoon.

"Umm, well, I was thinking more along the lines of Apparating him to an isolated place where he'll be unable to return to Japan. A place with really strict border control. Personally, I think that I should send him to North Korea."

Rin and Shirou gaped at Harry. As the seconds ticked on, Harry grew more and more worried. "Guys? You okay there?" No reply. "Saber?"

Saber shook her head. "The Grail hasn't provided me any information about this North Korea. I'm as lost as you are."

Rin recovered first. "You want to send Shinji to North Korea?" She asked incredulously.

Harry nodded. "I hear that it's extremely difficult to get in and out. I'm not sure how it is in this world, but it can't be too different."

"And you say _my_ methods are cruel," Rin began laughing suddenly. "In fact, no. I approve of your idea. Teleport him there."

"NO!" Shirou shouted. "Harry, are you even aware of the situation in North Korea?"

Harry shrugged. "Not really. I don't keep up with Muggle affairs all that much. I've heard that it's extremely difficult to cross the border, but that's about it."

"It's much worse than that! I don't think they've even heard of 'human rights' before! You _can't_ send Shinji there!" Shirou protested.

Rin nodded. "The mages there hate outsiders. They hate prominent mage families even more. If they even hear the name Matou, we'll probably never see Shinji again."

"Alright, alright, fine. Russia, then?" Harry suggested.

Shirou calmed down. "I'm okay with that."

"It's decided then. When we see him tomorrow, I'll relocate him North. What about his Servant, Rider? What do we do with her?"

"We eliminate her," Saber answered.

"Yup. The Bounded Field at school won't disappear fully until its creator has died, and Rider could still activate the Field at any time. I don't think Shinji would activate it, but with him gone, Rider might become desperate," Rin narrowed her eyes. "I won't allow that."

Shirou shifted uncomfortably. "So we've decided to kill her, just like that?"

"Shirou. She has already died. I don't know how the Grail brought her back to life, but the dead need to remain dead," Harry said gently. "No offense, Saber."

"None taken," Saber replied. Harry frowned slightly. The same troubled look was back on Saber's face.

Oh well. He won't pry.

"Besides, we already know that she created a Bounded Field that would literally kill everyone in the school if activated," Harry continued. "She crossed the line."

Shirou sighed. "Fine."

Harry mentally prepared himself. He took a deep breath. "There's one more thing. Saber, we ran into a Servant tonight."

"What?!" Saber sat up straight, tensing up. "Who was it?"

"Lancer," Harry said. "Don't worry, no one was hurt. We had a small fight, and then he left."

Rin began laughing. "It wasn't just a 'small fight."' She ignored Harry's frantic signals for her to stop speaking. "Harry was about to win, but he stopped because Lancer called, and I quote, a 'time out.'"

Why does Rin have to do this to him? Harry shot her a quick dirty glare.

Saber directed her cool gaze towards Harry. "You stopped your attack because Lancer called a 'time out?'"

". . . maybe?"

Saber let out a sigh. "I have no words. Please, don't do it again."

"I'll try not to." Harry winced under Saber's frosty glare. ". . . I _will_ not."

Saber nodded, satisfied. "Did you find out anything new about Lancer?"

Harry's gaze became serious. "Lancer's Master commanded Lancer to not go full-out on his first fight with any opponent."

"What? With a Command Seal?" Saber looked confused at the thought.

"He didn't specify, but I think so. In any case, the next time you fight him, be careful. He'll be a lot stronger and faster than when you first fought him. Don't be caught off guard," Harry warned.

Saber shook her head, bewildered. "Why would Lancer's Master do that? It makes no sense. Why limit your Servant's power intentionally in the first fight?"

Harry shrugged. "No idea."

Rin crossed her arms. "It could be because Lancer's Master wants to prolong the War. Perhaps he enjoys watching people fight."

Shirou looked genuinely mad at that. "The longer the War drags on, the more people would be hurt. Doesn't he care about that?"

"Some men, Shirou, live to see the world burn. They revel in people's suffering," Harry said solemnly. "It is those people that we must stop at all costs, for the Greater Good. Still, I feel bad for Lancer. It must suck, having a Master like that."

"Indeed. Shirou, you may be unable to provide me mana, but you have honor and morals and compassion. Those are the things that matter," Saber said with fire burning in her eyes.

Harry glanced at Saber. That was exceptionally inspiring for such a short speech. Saber's charisma was extraordinary.

Then again, she _was_ a king. Charisma was kind of necessary for a ruler to have.

Shirou smiled. "Thanks, Saber. I'm glad to have-"

"Quiet," Harry hissed. His hand flew to his head. There was a slight ringing sound that only he could hear. His ward had gone off. "There's someone here."

Saber leaped to her feet, armor and Invisible Air materializing in an instant. "Shirou, Rin, stay back. If they're launching a frontal assault on our home base, it can only mean they're supremely confident in their chances of victory."

Harry waved his hand, eyes closed and concentrating intently. The air resistance around Saber was lowered to negligible amounts as a small layer of magic formed over her skin. It was a charm normally used for racing broomsticks to allow for faster changes in motion by dissipating momentum, but it could be casted on other objects. The combination of these two spells meant that Saber's agility and maneuverability just shot up by several magnitudes- definitely enough to avoid Berserker's fierce attacks.

There was a sound of an explosion from outside.

"Damnit, they've already started?!" Harry grabbed Saber and Apparated them into the clearing.

Archer was being pushed back by Berserker. He was holding beautiful twin daggers, a black and white one. Harry watched Berserker slam his axe-sword down onto the black dagger, shattering it into shards of light. There was another dagger in Archer's hand even before the light fell down to the ground.

Saber wasted no time in rushing Berserker directly, jumping in front of Archer and unleashing a devastating downward slash. Berserker twisted to the side, deflecting Saber's sword to the side, then changed the direction of his sword to slam into Saber's side.

Saber blocked the blow- and was blasted backwards from the force.

A soft wall of dirt rose up and stopped Saber from crashing into the concrete compound wall.

Harry stepped forward, intently concentrating on his spell. A moment later, a wave of magic blew out from Harry's hand, passing through everything harmlessly and formed a bubble around the entire compound and then some.

Harry breathed out slowly. That was probably the largest muggle-repelling charm he had ever casted. It was necessary. Harry didn't want any muggles stumbling into the crossfire. Now, muggles are prevented from seeing or wandering inside the area.

Thank goodness Fujimura had forgotten to buy something and was out shopping right now.

"Good evening, Illya," Harry greeted with a smile to the little girl standing behind Berserker.

Illya smiled back at him. "Hey Harry! How's it going?"

"it was fine until you activated my alert ward," Harry said conversationally. Berserker had stopped attacking for now and was standing back perfectly straight, like an immovable pillar.

"I'm getting some distance between me and Berserker. Don't die." Archer _jumped_ backwards. A small cloud of dust rose up the ground he had been standing on.

Harry turned around. He could distinctly see a form leaping from building to building, already a couple hundred feet away and gaining more distance.

Harry wasn't ashamed at all to say that he would've preferred to be with Archer right now instead of standing in front of the behemoth of madness and strength.

"Aren't you happy to see me, Harry?" Illya pouted.

"That depends. Will you be attacking us tonight?" Harry's mind raced as he spoke. He hadn't expected this at all.

"Yup," Illya confirmed cheerfully. "Don't worry, though. I won't be killing you. I'll just beat you up a bit, then make you my servant."

"I'm already Shirou's Servant," Harry reminded her.

Ilya shook her head. "Not that type of Servant. An actual servant that will serve me."

Harry paused. "Oh. Okay. Well, I can't really allow that. I don't really want to be anyone's servant, you see."

"You're Onii-chan's Servant," Illya frowned cutely.

"I'm his Servant, but not his servant. My official title-" technically "- is a Servant. However, that does not mean I act like a servant."

Somehow, Illya understood that mess of a sentence, judging from the look of comprehension on her face. "I see. Well, you don't have a choice in the matter. Berserker, get him."

At least that was marginally better than last time, when Illya had said "Berserker, kill him."

Berserker turned his gaze to Harry. His angry visage became downright terrifying. His rage-filled eyes recognized Harry.

No, not just that. Given how Berserker let out a roar that shook the foundations of the compound itself and charged at Harry with a burning passion, Harry would say that Berserker _remembered _Harry- more specifically, he remembered what Harry had done.

And, from the looks of it, it appeared that Berserker was still _furious_ about Harry's. . . attack.

Harry stood his ground, not moving an inch even as Berserker neared.

When Berserker was within striking distance of Harry, he cut sideways- and was intercepted by Saber.

"Berserker, I am your opponent," Saber calmly stated as she struggled to hold back Berserker's sword. Harry saw her arms trembling somewhat. He had to end this quickly.

Harry Disapparated about 10 feet backwards. His wand was already spinning in his hand, and his concentration was fully devoted to looking for openings.

"What are you holding?" Illya questioned.

Berserker's head moved a fraction of an inch, turning to look at Harry's hand as well, but Saber took that nanosecond to jump upward to deliver a slash that would've taken off Berserker's head if it landed.

If it landed. Berserker bent back- seriously, it shouldn't be possible for a mini-giant to be that flexible- and used his momentum to kick upward, backflipping in place.

Saber was forced to step back to avoid Berserker's foot. She shot forward again, sword held to the side. She sliced at Berserker who met her sword with his own. They struggled for dominance, blades locked together.

Now was his chance.

Harry increased the air resistance around Berserker by a hundredfold, the air becoming tremendously thick. Even before the charm was complete, Harry Apparated directly behind Berserker, wand blurring in his hand as he went through all of the wand motions. Magic was gathered, shaped, layered and compressed all in a fraction of a second.

"Avada Kedavra!" Harry roared, his green eyes cold and detached, all traces of warmth absent.

Harry's wand shuddered as the green light burst out faster than the speed of sound mere inches from Berserker's skin.

Berserker once again showcased why he was _the_ first-class warrior. His godlike reaction time allowed him to already begin dodging and counter attacking the moment Harry appeared behind him and casted the spell, but the distance was too short and the air resistance was too much.

Simply put, Berserker was too slow to avoid the green light.

Berserker collapsed, slowly falling to the ground. Harry canceled the charm, returning the air to normal, causing Berserker's body to speed up through the air suddenly, crashing into the ground with a thud.

Berserker's red eyes dimmed to darkness.

Moment of truth. Berserker was dead, but would he stay dead? Did Berserker have regeneration or resurrection?

"What did you just do?!" Illya screamed.

Harry's expression returning to normal. He has been told before that whenever he was truly serious, his eyes promised death.

He didn't enjoy wearing that expression. That expression belonged to the man who fought in the war against Voldemort.

Harry didn't want to become that man again.

"This," Harry said, holding up his wand, "is a wand." The wand was hot to the touch. The core had undoubtedly sustained damage. "What I just did was cast the Killing Curse. Berserker's dead, Illya. Surrender."

"Surrender?" Illya narrowed her eyes. "You didn't defeat Berserker. Berserker's strong, way stronger than you. No 'Killing Curse' is enough to keep him down. Berserker!"

The light returned to Berserker's eyes, a fiery red that glowed in the darkness. He let out a fearsome roar-

Harry Apparated directly on top of Berserker's face and cast a point-blank Fiendfyre spell. He Disapparated the moment the spell had left his wand. Fiendfyre was extremely destructive, and it was recommended to not stay around it longer than you had to.

A dark flame roared to life where the spell had hit Berserker. It increased in size until it enveloped Berserker's entire body. Berserker let out an ungodly roar as he began writhing around, the dark flames of Fiendfyre melting his flesh.

He grabbed his head. His eyes were closed for once, scrunched up in pain. Harry frowned. This wasn't a normal reaction to Fiendfyre. Berserker should be hurting all over, so why was he grabbing his head?

Unless his head didn't hurt physically but rather mentally. With a start, Harry remembered his journey into Berserker's head. Heracles had died from being burned alive on a pyre.

Heracles had died from being _burned alive on a pyre_.

Heracles was reliving his death right now. He was literally reliving his death right now.

"Berserker!" Illya screamed. "Berserker, get up! Ignore the flames! Get up!" For the first time since Harry had met her, Illya seemed fearful. Scared of something.

Or perhaps she was scared _for_ someone.

Berserker's skin bubbled from the heat. The dark flames formed the distinct shape of a phoenix that tore through Berserker's body. Flesh was being burned away. A slight sizzling sound could be hurt and slivers of bone could be seen. There was a slight red haze over Berserker- his blood had evaporated into steam.

"It's useless, Illya," Harry commented. "Fiendfyre is the most destructive flame I know." Harry glanced down at his wand. Its internal temperature was increasing by the second, and holding it was starting to hurt.

Harry sighed. "Thank you," he whispered. "You've done great. Rest now." The wand hummed in his hand, pulsating once comfortingly. Then the core burned up. The wand dissolved into ashes that were quickly blown away by the wind.

"Even if Berserker is constantly reviving, it's useless," Harry repeated. "Fiendfyre will continue to burn and destroy until its target has been utterly annihilated. It doesn't matter how many times Berserker revives; unless the Fiendfyre is extinguished, he will continue to die over and over again. You've lost."

Without access to magic, the only way for them to extinguish the Fiendfyre is by killing Harry. But Harry wasn't going to die that easily.

Saber walked over to Harry's side. "Your wand burned up?"

"Yeah," Harry said sadly. "I pushed it to the limit. It did its job well."

Saber regarded the still-burning body of Berserker. "It certainly did."

Harry could see Berserker regenerating, but the newly healed flesh was burned the moment it formed. It was a cycle that didn't seem to be stopping.

How many revives did Berserker have?

Berserker let out another roar of pain. Harry didn't blame him. Being burned alive by the dark flames must _hurt_. Especially coupled with the psychological torment he must be going through.

"Berserker!" Illya began running towards Berserker.

"Whoa whoa whoa!" Harry shouted, quickly Apparating in front of Illya's path, stopping her in her tracks. "Why on earth would you run _towards_ Fiendfyre?"

"You can't- not again- get out of my way-" Illya abruptly regained her composure. A small smile made it onto her face. "Harry Potter. You have not won yet. You have not beaten Berserker. Because Berserker is _strong_."

"Harry!" Saber yelled in warning.

Harry whirled around. Berserker was standing upright, back perfectly straight. Harry gaped. The dark flames of Fiendfyre still danced across the surface of Berserker's skin, but Berserker was completely unharmed. His body had been completely healed, and Fiendfyre seemed to have no effect whatsoever.

_What the hell?!_

Berserker roared, no longer a roar of pain but rather a roar of fury, and slammed his axe-sword down onto the spot where Harry had been standing. Next to Saber, Harry exited the Apparition with his eyes firmly fixed on Berserker.

"How is he able to resist Fiendfyre?!" This shouldn't be possible. The only beings known to be immune to Fiendfyre were Drakons. Even dragons couldn't do a thing against the dark flames.

"Berserker, I knew you would be okay," Illya smiled up at him. She turned her gaze towards Saber and Harry, a smug smile on her lips. "

"Saber?" Harry kept his eyes on Berserker.

"Yes?" Saber held up her sword in front of her, perfectly centered so she could respond quickly to attacks from any direction.

"I know you won't like it, but. . ." Harry trailed off.

"Let me hazard a guess. You wish for us to retreat, correct?" Saber wasn't looking at Harry when she spoke, but Harry could hear the disapproval in her voice.

"I'm without a wand, and we're fighting against someone with the constitution and resistance of a. . . I don't even have a comparison! How is Berserker able to do this?!" He directed the last part towards Illya, who was watching their conversation with undisguised glee.

Illya smiled. "You've already lost, so I'll tell you the secret. Berserker's Noble Phantasm is God Hand. It allows Berserker to gain an immunity to any attack he's already experienced before. After being subjected to your Fiendfyre so many times, he's completely immune by now."

"Bullshit!" was Harry's instantaneous response. "What sort of broken technique is that?!"

"Says the Sorcerer who can teleport away from any attack," Illya shot back.

"There are ways to counter Apparition! How the hell am I supposed to counter someone who literally _can't be killed?!_" Harry took a single deep breath to restore his mental state to optimal conditions. He breathed out slowly. "Saber, any ideas?"

"We kill him until he cannot revive himself anymore," Saber stepped forward. "There is no way for Heracles to possess infinite revivals. It is likely that he only possesses 12 lives, one for each Labor he had performed while alive."

There's no way that's correct. What do Heracles' Labors have to do with the amount of revivals he possesses? There's no correlation whatsoever. It had to be something else-

"I'm surprised," Illya breathed. "You're correct, Saber. Heracles has 12 lives total, but he's already used up several of them."

. . . Saber was correct? Noble Phantasms, Harry decided, made no sense. How does Heracles's Labors even remotely correlate to the amount of lives he has?

"You think we can kill Berserker multiple times again?" Harry gestured to the immobile form of Berserker still staring down at them. Thankfully, Berserker hadn't attacked yet. He was just standing there, the Fiendfyre trying and failing to incinerate Berserker's flesh. "There's no way."

Harry waved his hand, causing the dark flames to go out. There's no point in maintaining the Fiendfyre if it wasn't going to do anything. It's just a waste of energy at this point.

"No. This is winnable," Saber declared before rushing towards Berserker, sword raised.

Damnit! Why won't she quit? Was her knight's code _that_ important to her? A fine balance needed to be kept between honor and self-preservation. For Saber, the balance seemed to be heavily skewed towards the honor side. Why won't she ever give up-

Give up.

_Give up_. The full meaning of the words slammed into Harry at that moment.

Harry froze. What was he thinking? Saber wasn't giving up, and he was. Why was he giving up? Has he changed that much?

Harry remembered a time when, against everyone's objections, he never stopped believing and never stopped fighting. He remembered a time when all hope was lost and victory was impossible, he stayed and fought and overcame all odds and _won_.

Where was that Harry? Where was the Harry that had the guts to never give up?

He's Harry Potter, damnit! Dumbledore's Apprentice and Prodigy of Hogwarts! He killed the greatest Dark Lord in all of history. He wasn't going to run away, he wasn't going to quit.

Berserker had already tried to kill Harry and his friends. He tried to _hurt Harry's friends_.

And Harry was going to run away from him? Run away while Saber fought Berserker, their blades clashing and shockwaves being released from every impact?

Berserker twisted his body to avoid a stab, converting the momentum of the spin into a vicious backslice. Saber barely managed to block it, skidding back from the force.

Harry sighed. He really shouldn't be doing this. In fact, every rational thought is telling him not to, to just retreat and regroup for another day, to create another plan to deal with Berserker.

But that wouldn't accomplish anything. Harry would still be rooted in place, not changing anything.

Harry needs to stop thinking about failure. The outcome won't change- there's no way Berserker can kill him with Harry's Fading- so for now, Harry should just keep on moving forward.

There are times when you just have to stop thinking and start _doing_.

Saber blinked as Berserker's axe-sword didn't make contact with her blade already positioned to block the strike. "What?"

Something else had intercepted the sword. Harry wished with all his might that he could say it wasn't him.

It was him.

"This is rather odd," Harry commented, holding back Berserker's sword with one hand. "I would've thought that your weapon, much like yourself, would be enchanted against spells and charms."

Most weapons and armor are enchanted to be resistant against spells and charms. It would've been incredibly embarrassing if someone had Vanished Godric Gryffindor's sword while he was in battle, or charmed his armor to weigh a ton.

Saber's sword gave off that aura, that sense that using magic on it simply wouldn't work, whether because of intricate spellwork, elaborate runes, or an inherent magical resistance. Lancer's spear had been the same, which is why Harry hadn't even tried.

Berserker's axe-sword-club monstrosity, on the other hand, had no such aura. Harry initially thought it was because the spells or runes on it were so good, they masked their own presence from detection.

But Illya's statement got him thinking. Berserker's Noble Phantasm was God Hand. Berserker's ugly deformed sword definitely did not deserve the name "God Hand." Thus, Berserker's sword was probably not his Noble Phantasm.

If it wasn't a Noble Phantasm, then there was a chance that Berserker's axe-sword wasn't magical at all, but instead was a normal sword- albeit a highly impractical one.

And if that was the case, then while Harry's spells won't work on Berserker due to his God Hand and magical resistance, it would certainly work on his weapon.

Harry's hypothesis was proven correct when he was able to disperse the momentum of the sword and slow it down to a stop, allowing him to block the sword with a single hand reinforced with magic.

Of course, if it hadn't worked, then Harry would've just Faded out. Risk was minimal. He wasn't _that_ stupid to go in without a backup plan.

"But it appears to be a normal Muggle weapon," Harry continued. "Against normal people who can't utilize magic, it would be incredibly deadly. But against a wi-Sorcerer, you might as well be waving around a harmless foam sword."

In this world, Harry wasn't a wizard. He was a Sorcerer. Might as well use the local terminology.

Berserker's foot streaked towards Harry's head but Harry was already gone, Apparating both himself and Saber out.

"Have you come to your senses?" Saber rematerialized chunks of her armor where it had been scraped off.

"Giving up. . . running away. . . to tell you the truth, I don't know _what_ I was thinking," Harry smiled. "Come on, let's end this."

Saber returned his smile with one of her own, a smile that seemed to inspire hope- a smile of a _king. "_It's good to have you back, Harry."

Harry quickly assessed the situation. He was useless against Berserker. Archer couldn't do a thing. Shirou and Rin would be crushed. The only one that could really do anything against Berserker was Saber, and even then, would she have enough mana to pull off her Excalibur's attack? Harry doubted it.

There was only one viable way for them to win with a high chance of success and a low chance of death. Harry's gaze landed on Illya.

Harry felt like a rat bastard for even thinking about it, but. . . well, Illya had already taken Shirou and Rin hostage once. He would just be doing the same thing to her.

Illya locked eyes with Harry. Her eyes widened. "Don't you dare," she said threateningly.

Berserker looked to see what Harry was looking at. Harry knew the moment Berserker realized what Harry was intending because of the sudden protective aura pushing down on Harry. The hair on the back of Harry's neck rose up as he felt the sheer _will_ to protect fill up the air.

Berserker growled in warning, planting his axe-sword in the ground and crossing his arms. An immovable pillar of pure force. The message sent was clear.

_You shall not pass_.

"I apologize, but it appears to be the only thing I can do that has a chance of succeeding" Harry truly didn't want to employ such tactics. But if he had to, he would.

Saber turned questioningly towards Harry. "What do you mean-" She saw who Harry was looking at.

"No." Saber's refusal was resolute and steadfirm.

"It's our only chance," Harry tried to convince her.

"No," Saber repeated. "I will not stoop to such levels."

"But-"

"Berserker is our opponent here. We shall win by killing the Servant," Saber narrowed her eyes, "and not the Master."

Harry blinked. "Who said anything about killing her?"

Saber knit her brows together. "What do you mean then?"

"Well, umm. . . I was planning on forcing her to use a Command Seal to stop Berserker, or something," Harry scratched his head. "Why do you guys always jump to the most extreme conclusion?"

Saber ignored that question. "Nevertheless, it would not be winning through honorable means. Besides, we have to get past _him_ to get to Illyasviel."

She pointed with her Invisible Air at Berserker, who actually seemed to have lost a lot of his rage, and was instead looking down at them with a steely gaze. Did Berserker lose some of his madness because Harry had threatened his Master? Were Berserker's protective instincts enough to overpower his madness? Interesting.

Harry smiled. "Have you forgotten? What good is an impenetrable defense. . ."

Berserker whirled around, ripping the sword from the ground and slamming it down behind him, a loud BOOM exploding out as the sound barrier was broken, but it was too late.

". . . when you don't have to penetrate it?" Harry finished, reappearing next to Saber with Illya by his side. His left hand was on Illya's shoulder, granting the necessary contact for a Side-along Apparition.

Illya broke free within an instant, silvery white wires materializing into existence around her, forming into a large sword that hovered in the air- which promptly crumpled into itself when Harry simply reached out his hand and shot a Stunning spell into her chest.

Illya let out a quiet gasp before collapsing, all the tension leaving her body as if she was a puppet with its strings cut.

Victory was-

Harry's instinct _screamed _out at him. He reacted instantly- and even then, it was almost too slow.

Harry Faded out of Reality, the axe-sword passing through his head. A massive gust of wind blew out from the strike, blowing Saber off her feet. She flew through the air, spinning so that she would land on her feet on the compound wall.

A moment later, the shockwaves from Berserker's initial lunge reached the ground beneath Harry, cracking it, the tremors undoubtedly reaching deep into the ground. The sound of Berserker's roar finally reached Harry's position. It was a roar filled not with rage but rather the intent to protect.

Astonished, Harry could only stare dumbly through his magical eyes. Strands of white hair fluttered down to the ground. Harry had Faded just in time. Any slower, and his head would be crashing down to the ground as well.

Berserker's speed had just surpassed what should've been possible. He had crossed the distance separating him and Harry in the blink of an eye, and his sword swing had been even faster.

Berserker scooped up Illya in his massive arm. Her head began slumping down to the ground, but Berserker readjusted her so that her head would be supported. Berserker tried to bisect Harry once more, but the axe-sword passed harmlessly through Harry's image.

Berserker gave up, instead leaping straight up into the air. Harry watched him rise into the air, the moon illuminating Berserker's gigantic frame. He absently calculated the angles. Berserker would land well outside the compound walls.

Berserker was retreating, then. Clearly, he wasn't going to risk Illya being harmed by Harry. Berserker reached the peak of his jump and began to drop back to the ground- when a barrage of red arrows came out of nowhere, aimed to pierce the airborne target.

Archer- that bastard! Was he trying to kill Illya as well?

Berserker twisted his body in midair, shielding Illya's small form entirely. The arrows slammed into his back, dealing no damage. Then one single arrow, filled to the brim with magical energy, streaked towards Berserker.

That was the same explosive arrow Archer had fired before. Berserker couldn't possibly tank the damage with his body like normal because the explosion would slam him into Illya.

Berserker had extremely dense muscles that were harder than steel. Illya was a little girl. Not a great combination. If the force of the explosion knocked Berserker into Illya, then Illya's bones would probably be broken and her brain concussed, with death being a real possibility.

If Berserker made no signs of changing his defensive strategy, then Harry would have to Apparate in and extract Illya. There were times where killing was necessary. This was not one of those times.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief when Berserker hurled his axe-sword at the arrow with perfect accuracy, intercepting it. Berserker's battle instincts were, as usual, top-notch and on point.

The resulting explosion looked like a firework. A very lethal firework. The smoke cleared, revealing Berserker once again taking no damage, Illya held safely in his arm.

There was one critical difference, however. Berserker was no longer going to land outside the compound walls. Instead, he was going to land in the clearing.

Archer had shot the explosive arrow not with the intent to kill but rather with the intent to alter Berserker's path and prevent his retreat.

Harry smiled. Although Archer probably didn't know it, he just saved Harry a lot of trouble. If Berserker was retreating, then Harry would have to chase after Berserker, which would inevitably result in a mobile fight all around the city where people could get hurt.

The fight against Berserker was going to end tonight. Harry will make sure of it.

Harry Faded back into Reality and stomped his foot on the uneven cracked ground. Dirt rose up to form an oversized needle-shaped structure at the spot where Berserker would land, the point sharp and ready. Then, for good measure, Harry transfigured the dirt into iron then charmed it unbreakable.

Harry honestly didn't think it would do any damage, but he had to try.

Come to think of it, this was the second time tonight Harry had watched someone fall to the ground, Lancer being the first. Harry hoped this wouldn't become a habit.

Harry distractedly cast a sticking charm on his shoes so that the shockwave from Berserker's impact wouldn't knock him off his feet. That would be pretty embarrassing.

He watched Berserker crash into the ground, sending dust up everywhere. The ground cracked even more.

Saber rapidly darted back to Harry's side. Her muscles were tense and Harry could see beads of sweat on her skin. She was laser focused on Berserker, who was still obscured by the dust cloud.

They couldn't see a single thing within the dust cloud other than Berserker's vague outline. Harry sent a large gust of wind to clear the dust.

When the dust cleared, Harry saw Berserker standing on his feet. In his arms, Illya was thankfully untouched and was still sleeping peacefully. Harry's gaze traveled downward- then froze in place.

The iron needle stood with all its glory, stabbing straight up into the region right between Berserker's legs.

There was silence for a moment. Pure, unadulterated silence.

"I am really. Really. _Really_ sorry about that," Harry winced. That was not supposed to happen. That was _not_ supposed to happen.

Berserker looked down. Stared at the unbreakable oversized iron needle still jabbing into his flesh. Then he looked back at Harry, an almost confused expression on his face.

". . . I didn't expect you to land on your feet. In fact, I fully expected you to dodge that. A mistake, in retrospect," Harry futilely tried to explain, but there really weren't any excuses that could be made.

For once, Berserker didn't seem angry. His face was serene, and his eyes which had been clouded with rage before cleared to reveal tranquil pools of redness.

Harry suddenly felt fear again. He could deal with a mad Berserker. A calm Berserker, on the other hand. . .

"Umm, let me just. . ." Harry canceled the transfiguration and unbreakable charm, then canceled the sticking charm on his shoes as an afterthought. The iron needle reverted to dirt which then fell down, filling up the cracks in the ground.

There were two explanations to Berserker's sudden tranquility that Harry could think of. The first explanation was: being stabbed _there_ had shocked Berserker into rationality and peacefulness.

The second explanation was that Berserker had transcended normal rage and was in a higher level of absolute _fury_.

The really scary thing was that Harry couldn't tell. Berserker wasn't showing any emotions at all. He could be genuinely calm right now, or he could be about to go onto a killing spree.

"Now, before you do something you might regret," Harry held his hands out in front of him in an effort to prevent Berserker from rampaging, "I'd like to remind you that you're holding Illya in your arms. Which means that if you fight, you run the risk of her getting hurt."

Berserker didn't react to Harry's words at all. He just stared serenely down at Harry like a monk that has achieved nirvana.

Saber cautiously walked towards Berserker, wary of any sudden attacks. Berserker's eyes didn't even flicker; they remained fixed on Harry.

". . . okay, this is becoming pretty creepy. Can you, like, roar if you're okay?" Harry asked. The intensity of Berserker's stare was getting to him.

Berserker silently turned around and began walking away. His entire body language told Harry that Berserker was _done_.

In a blur of speed, Saber moved to block Berserker's path. "Do not presume that you may leave."

Berserker didn't even spare her a single glance. His pace remained the same, and he showed no signs of slowing down.

Saber would probably have been bulldozed over if it hadn't been for Illya stirring in Berserker's arm. "Mmm. . ." she sleepily mumbled out. "Why won't you come back?"

Harry froze at Illya's heartbroken tone, filled anguish and pain. What was she talking about? Who won't come back?

Berserker stopped and looked down at Illya. He shook her gently. A deep purring noise came out of his throat, soft and comforting.

Harry blinked. What the hell? Although when he really thought about it, it made sense.

Heracles had been a father once, after all.

"Berserker?" Illya rubbed her eyes. She drowsily looked around the clearing. Alertness returned to her at once when she caught sight of Saber and Harry. She jolted from Berserker's arms. Berserker released her and she fell to the ground, landing softly.

"What did you do to me?" Illya examined herself for any harm.

"I hit you with a Stunning spell," Harry said, grateful for any distraction from Berserker's empty gaze. "Don't worry, it has no lasting effects. All it does is it knocks you unconscious for a while."

A very short while, in Illya's case. Harry's wandless Stunning spell was weak, yes, but she should've still been out for at least an hour. How had she awoken in less than 10 minutes? Her magic must be strong, extraordinarily so, for her to recover so quickly.

Satisfied that there wasn't anything wrong with her, Illya glared at Harry. "That was a cheap shot." Silver wires formed in the air, creating birds that flew around her. No doubt countermeasures for if Harry decided to Apparate next to her again.

"It really was," Saber agreed.

Harry shrugged wordlessly. He didn't have anything to say in his defense because he agreed with every word they said. Instead, he tried to change the subject. "You have a very good Servant, Illya. He recovered you from me the literal second you were knocked out."

Illya grinned. "Berserker is the best, isn't he?"

Berserker inclined his head in agreement, red eyes still locked with Harry's green ones. Harry held back a flinch. In the psychological warfare department, Berserker was winning by _far_.

Illya frowned. "What happened while I was unconscious? Why is Berserker so. . . calm?"

Harry _did_ flinch from that. "We had a minor altercation."

Berserker roared, a blast of unholy sound slamming into Harry, his hair being swept back and his cloak billowing from the force.

"Okay," amended Harry. "It was a pretty major altercation."

"Do I even want to know?"

"No. No you don't," Harry confirmed. "Some things are better left unsaid."

Thankfully, Illya dropped the issue, her frown melting away into a smile. "Whatever. It doesn't matter, since you'll be defeated tonight. You should've just accepted my offer of being my servant."

Harry shook his head. "I'm afraid the only one being defeated here tonight is going to be Berserker."

Illya hesitated. "You didn't have to hit me with a Stunning spell. You could've killed me there. You _should've _killed me there. Why didn't you?"

"Haven't I told you before? I have no intentions on killing you. I don't want to fight you, Illya." And that was the truth.

In this War, Harry just wanted to save people who don't have the power to save themselves. Protect the innocents, vanquish evil. Fighting others should only be used as a last resort when diplomacy has failed.

To be honest, against Illya and Berserker, Harry should've abandoned diplomacy a long time ago, but Harry didn't want to. Illya was just a kid. A kid that was trapped in the darkness. And it was Harry's job to be the light that shines through the darkness. If she wanted to, Illya could do lots and lots of good in the world. Harry just had to guide her the right way.

Illya shook her head. "Harry Potter. You make no sense."

"Why are you fighting?" Harry asked. "What wish could you possibly have?"

If it was within Harry's power, then he would grant it. Maybe then she won't have to fight anymore. Assuming, of course, that the wish doesn't go against Harry's morals.

"Wish?" Illya's eyes unfocused. "The wish has nothing to do with it. The Einzbern's goal is to recover the lost Magic. I have to fight. It's my duty. I have to win. _I have to win_."

What on earth was the lost Magic she was talking about-

"Oh, and I also want to kill Onii-chan," Illya smiled sweetly.

Wait.

_What?_

Harry's thoughts abruptly screeched to a halt. "I'm sorry?"

"I said, I want to kill Onii-chan," Illya tilted her head to the side. "Where is he anyways? I wanted to say hi to him tonight before Berserker cut off his head."

Harry stared at her, immensely disturbed. Although that was a good question. Where was Shirou and Rin? Harry released a magic pulse.

Rin and Shirou were still inside the dojo. They were crouching beneath the windows, observing the battle outside through a small mirror held in Rin's left hand. Shirou appeared to be gesturing wildly to a baffled Rin.

Harry glanced at Saber, who also had a clueless expression that must've mirrored his own.

"When you say 'Onii-chan,'" Harry hesitantly began, "You mean Emiya Shirou, correct?"

Illya nodded brightly. "Yup!"

"Right. . ." Harry was at a rare loss for words. Thankfully, Saber took over the questioning, walking over to stand next to Harry again. Berserker, once again, kept his eyes firmly on Harry, only flickering to Saber once to be sure that she wasn't doing anything nefarious. Harry scoffed. Saber doing something dishonorable? Unthinkable.

"Why do you wish to slay Shirou?" Saber inquired.

Illya's face darkened. Anger, hatred, _pain_. Harry's heart throbbed as he saw hatred on her face that no child should have. "Because I _hate_ Onii-chan."

The sliding door leading out to the clearing slammed open. Shirou stepped out, a confused expression on his face. Behind him, Rin was holding out her hand, as if she had tried to stop him but failed.

"You hate. . . me?" Behind Shirou, Rin facepalmed before rushing out as well, jewels clutched in her hands.

On one hand, Harry agreed with Rin's sentiment. Rushing out to ask a question was a pretty foolish thing to do. On the other hand, he couldn't exactly fault Shirou for coming out.

Illya smiled at Shirou with the same expression on her face. She looked unhinged. Harry suddenly felt an intense worry for her mental stability. "Onii-chan, there you are! I was getting worried that I wouldn't see you die tonight."

"I don't even know who you are!" Shirou protested. "I've never even met you before the other night at the church!"

"You _took him away from me! _I'll _never_ forgive you for that!" Illya's face twisted, a deranged scowl that marred her cute features. "Berserker, kill him!"

On the bright side, Berserker finally broke eye contact with Harry. On the not so bright side, Berserker's newfound calm dissipated and all of Berserker's fury and rage returned with a vengeance- only this time, it was directed towards Shirou.

Berserker's sudden shift from targets caught Saber off guard. She tried to intercept Berserker but was too slow. She wouldn't make it in time.

Berserker unleashed a devastating swipe aimed at Shirou's head that would take it right off and then some.

Harry didn't move. He waited.

Just waited.

Rin threw a jewel that shattered above Berserker. Blue light formed a barrier around Berserker as a force crushed down upon him. Berserker was restrained for only a few seconds before he broke free, but that time allowed Saber to catch up and engage in battle with Berserker, rapid blows being exchanged between them.

"Shirou, come on! This is why you don't rush out during a fight between Servants! Idiot!" Rin grabbed Shirou's hand, pulling him away from the fight.

Harry noticed that Saber's attack style had changed. Her blows were less powerful but a lot quicker. She spun in midair parallel to the ground, her sword striking down at Berserker's head. He sidestepped completely and swung his axe-sword at her side, but she twisted, grabbing the blunt edge and swinging herself over it in a one-handed handstand.

Her foot slammed into Berserker's face who took it without even blinking. Not pausing at all, Saber pushed off her hand, shifting herself upright, getting in extremely close range with Berserker in the process, her sword aimed at Berserker's throat.

Berserker stomped on the ground, launching himself up, his knee driving into Saber's hastily-drawn block with her sword. She was pushed back a solid 10 feet, a trail of dust floating up from where she had dug her feet into the ground to stop herself.

Berserker was in front of her in an instant. Yet another crushing blow was delivered. Before, Saber would have met it head on with her own blade. Now, Saber merely angled her sword, causing Berserker's axe-sword to deflect off of it, barely missing Saber's head by an inch.

_She was learning_, Harry realized. She was adapting, changing her fighting style, improving her counters. The more she fought, the better she became again.

No, not just that. She was finally getting used to the decreased air resistance and increased maneuverability, and was taking full advantage of it.

She was altering her entire fighting style _midfight_. Harry was once again awed by the sheer skill and expertise she displayed. Saber was a _beast_.

Harry watched Saber pull off several flips that shouldn't be possible according to the muggles' laws of physics. Harry scoffed. _Laws_.

Berserker couldn't seem to be able to hit her. Saber was simply too fast.

And even as all of this happened, Harry waited, focused his gaze on Illya. Her smug expression was back, but she wasn't fooling Harry anymore. Illya was hurting badly. She hid it well with a smile, but there was a deep pain in her heart.

Just who had left her? Who had Shirou taken away from her?

Her entire being, so filled with pain and sorrow and hatred, had hit Harry hard. Her expression combined with Harry's Empathy. . . the sheer amount of suffering emanating from her. . . it reminded Harry of himself when Sirius had died. Harry had thrown himself headfirst into reckless training. He had needed to get stronger. Strong enough so that nobody else would die again.

And he did get stronger. But as he did, he lost something precious to him. With the risks Harry took and the things Harry did and the complete utter apathy Harry had, it wasn't a surprise to Harry when people started calling him a monster.

Caution and patience and diplomacy and compassion and kindness had left him. He killed and killed and killed. He didn't care if he died in the process. His only purpose, only goal in life was to completely annihilate Voldemort and his Death eaters.

Harry had closed off his heart. He became a machine, mechanically going through life. He had been completely detached.

But seeking vengeance hadn't done anything. It only numbed the pain. It is an unfortunate fact of life that numbing the pain for a while would only make it worse when you finally feel it.

And, months after Sirius had died, Harry had finally felt it. And with the pain and agony and sadness came all the emotions Harry had locked away when he was on his killing spree. And it hurt. So. Damn. Bad.

People had called him a monster. They were wrong. Monsters don't feel remorse. Harry had felt a deep remorse, a remorse that Voldemort could never feel.

Ron, Hermione, Luna, Dumbledore. . . they had been there for him. And now it's Harry's turn to be there for someone else.

Saber landed a three-hit combo on Berserker's torso- three horizontal slices that left no wounds. She quickly darted away from Berserker's enraged swing. Her feet barely touched the ground as she weaved through all of Berserker's attack.

"Enough." Harry's voice, layered with bass undertones, reverberated through the clearing. Berserker and Saber disengaged, both leaping back and cautiously regarding each other while observing Harry in the corner of their eyes.

"What is it?" Illya tensed up. The birds which had been flying around Illya stopped, turning to face Harry, hovering menacingly in the air. Did she think he would Apparate next to her again? No matter.

Harry smiled, brushing his hand through his white hair. A small breeze blew through the clearing, sending Harry's cloak billowing. The silver moon shone behind Harry, casting a soft glow on his white cloak.

"I changed my mind. Illyasviel von Einzbern, I'll be your servant."

There was silence at Harry's declaration for a moment. He could sense Rin and Shirou staring incredulously at him.

Illya blinked. "Wait, seriously?"

"What?! Harry, you can't!" Saber shouted, whirling around and glaring at Harry. "What are you saying?"

Harry's smile turned sad. But there was a hint of determination in there. "You heard me."

The best way to defeat an enemy, after all, is by making him your friend.

Harry spun in place, Apparating a good 5 feet away from Illya. The birds automatically flew towards him, extending into small spear-shaped light, but Illya held up her hands and they paused in midair.

Harry was correct. An automatic defense set to activate whenever someone entered the proximity. One of the best ways to counter Apparition- although this particular counter wasn't the best, since it was too slow. An AOE field would've been a lot more effective.

"So, what do you say?" Harry held out his right hand. "Do you accept?"

Illya hesitated. "You. . . do you promise? To be a good servant? To not betray me?"

She sounded like a young child, asking for reassurances that there wasn't a monster in the dark. It was so innocent, yet there was an unmistakable undertone in the message.

_Someone has betrayed me in the past. Will you do the same to me?_

"I promise." and, for added emphasis, Harry flared out his magic. A dense pressure set down over the clearing, but it wasn't an oppressive one. Rather, it was the condensed will Harry possessed- all of his honor expressed through his magic. "And I assure you; breaking promises is something that I simply do not do."

Unless, of course, the promise would result in a massive loss of life.

Illya stared at Harry, wide-eyed. "Why? I tried to kill you. I tried to kill your friends. You should hate me. You should want to kill me. Why?"

Harry inwardly groaned. This again? How many times does he need to state his reasons? "Why? Because I don't _want _to, that's why."

Was it really so hard for Illya to understand that? To understand that her life is precious? Although, if Illya was constantly surrounded by pain and betrayal and darkness, then it's likely any form of kindness and compassion would be alien to her.

Harry will make damn sure they become as familiar to her as the back of her hand.

Illya gazed into Harry's green eyes. For a moment, Harry saw a vulnerable expression on her face. But there was something else in there.

Hope.

Then it passed, and a smile was back on Illya's face. "Harry Potter. You are just so strange." She walked forwards, birds still fluttering around her, until she stood directly in front of Harry. Berserker gave a low growl of warning.

"But I don't mind," Illya reached out her own hand before faltering. "You promise?"

Harry smiled. "Always."

Illya nodded. She took Harry's outstretched hand. Her hand was warm. "It's decided then. Harry Potter, you are now my servant."

There was no bright flash of light or a pulse of power. But the power of the words were undeniable anyways.

Words were, after all, the most inextinguishable source of magic, able to change reality itself. And promises were the strongest of them all.

"What happened to not wanting to be a servant for anyone?" Saber threw a vicious glare at Harry.

Oh bloody hell, she was mad. Her icy glare seemed to lower the temperature of the clearing by 10 degrees.

Harry shrugged. It wasn't easy to explain.

But he had gone through the pain and had been in the darkness once before. And he doesn't want anyone else to experience it.

If it meant Harry had to allow Illya to have a modicum of control over him, then he'll gladly do it. He's willing to sacrifice a bit of his free will in exchange for pulling Illya out of the darkness. And he's willing to sacrifice even more.

This goes beyond his saving people thing. When he saves innocents and protects the weak, he does it because it's the right thing to do.

With Illya, Harry's doing it because it's _personal_. He genuinely wants_\- _no, he _needs_ to do it.

Maybe it was selfish of him. But Harry didn't care.

"I mean, being Illya's servant wouldn't be too bad," Harry released the charms on Saber. The air resistance and physics governing her motions returned to normal. "Besides, I have something important to do."

Shirou took a few hesitant steps forward. "What do you mean? Are you. . . leaving us?"

Illya laughed. "Of course he is! I'm a much better master than you are." She twirled around, arms out to the side. "You just lost your Sorcerer! Ha! How does it feel?"

"I'm doing what must be done," Harry locked eyes with Shirou. "You understand, don't you? When you're saving someone, the thing you're saving them from isn't always physical or material."

Shirou's eyes widened. His gaze shifted to Illya, who had a smug grin on her face and seemed to be oblivious to Harry's words.

Saber narrowed her eyes. "The only problem here is that she is the _enemy_."

"And who decides she's the enemy?" Harry spread his hands out to the side. "The Grail? The Holy Grail, which can allegedly grant any wish? A ritual that requires a _death battle_ to activate?"

Harry had a seriously bad feeling about the Holy Grail. Anything that required death to work was probably Dark. While that may not necessarily mean it's bad, odds are, it probably is.

"And what of it? Are you just going to-"

"Let him go, Saber," Shirou said. Harry smiled. He understood what Harry was trying to say, then.

Saber whirled to face Shirou. "What do you mean?"

"It's alright. I know why he's doing it."

"I'm just saying," Rin tossed a single jewel up and down, "You could always use a Command Seal on Harry."

Shirou frowned. "I would never do that."

"I'll stop you before you can," Harry mentioned offhandedly. It was one thing to willingly become someone's servant. It was a whole nother thing to be forced to obey someone's actions.

Besides, Command Seals sound eerily similar to the Imperius curse. Harry _hated_ the Imperius.

"And he won't let me," Shirou shrugged. "There's no point, really."

Rin sighed. "What, so you're just going to let Harry walk away?"

"Yeah."

"Well," Illya clapped her hands together, a wide grin on her face. "While it's been great and all, that's enough for tonight. I think it's time for me to take my leave."

Berserker's axe-sword vanished as he turned around and began walking towards Illya and Harry.

"Bye-bye Onii-chan! Thank you for your Servant!" Illya waved goodbye before grabbing Harry's hand and pulling him along. Berserker followed behind them.

Harry turned back and gave one last smile. "Apologies, but this is something that I must do."

Shirou shot him a thumbs-up. "I understand completely."

"I don't!" Rin had an intense look of concentration and confusion on her face, as if she was trying to figure out Harry's logic and failing to. Harry didn't blame her. His actions weren't exactly logical.

But sometimes, you have to ignore logic and just follow your feelings.

"Neither do I," Saber's sword and armor dematerialized, leaving her standing in her normal clothes, staring at Harry. Thankfully, the glare on her face was gone.

"Just trust me," Harry inclined his head.

Saber sighed. "Very well. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. Please, do not die."

"Got it."

"Come on, Harry. Let's leave already," Illya pouted, tugging on Harry's sleeve. "You're taking forever."

Harry chuckled. "All right, all right. Let's go. Hey, where exactly are we going?"

"My castle," Illya replied casually.

Harry paused. "An actual castle?"

"Yup."

"Exactly how rich are you?"

"Very."

"Of course you are"

Berserker picked Illya up and leaped over the compound walls. Harry turned around one last time.

"Well, smash a rock if you need me," Harry tossed each of them a rune-inscribed rock.

"Farewell," Saber looked a little unhappy. Harry didn't blame her. He'll explain it to her later.

"I _still_ don't understand. Harry, don't you dare die when you're gone. I expect answers," Rin glared, hands on her hips.

"And you'll get them," Harry assured.

Shirou smiled. "Go do what you have to do."

"Harry, come on already!" Illya called impatiently from over the wall.

"I'll be off, then." Harry gave one last uncertain look, a hesitant jerk of his body, before determination set in his face and he spun in place and Apparated outside next to Illya.

Harry canceled the muggle repelling charm. There was no use for it now.

Berserker was nowhere to be seen. He must've returned to Spirit Form. Thank Merlin for that. Harry didn't really want to spend any more time around Berserker than necessary.

"Harry Potter," Harry's attention was brought back to Illya, who was pointing at him, an eager expression on her face. "My first order to you, my servant, is to teleport me to the Einzbern Castle."

"No can do," Harry shook his head. "I need to have seen the location first."

In order to anchor himself to reality, Harry must be able to visualize _where_ to anchor himself. Otherwise, the only thing that would happen is him foolishly spinning around in a circle.

Illya huffed. "Fine." Then the smile was immediately back on her face, and she started walking away, clearly expecting Harry to follow her. Harry obliged, falling in line next to her.

"So how exactly does your teleportation work?" Illya asked.

"I only need to be able to visualize the destination. That's pretty much it." Compared to most spells, Apparition was absurdly easy to learn. If a wizard has determination, deliberation, and destination, then he could Apparate.

"Then can you teleport me up ahead?" Illya pointed at a random spot in the street ahead of them.

Harry chuckled. "Alright."

After checking that there were no muggles around taking a late night stroll, Harry put his hand on top of Illya's shoulder and Apparated 20 feet forward.

Illya laughed in exhilaration. She looked back at where she had been in wonder. "I was there, and now I'm here, without spending the time to travel the distance."

She looked back at Harry. "How did you acquire this True Magic?"

Harry shrugged. "I was born with it. I have a different magic than you do."

Illya's eyes flashed. "What?"

"What I do and and what you do are two completely different things." It took Harry a few seconds to realize that Illya had stopped walking. "Is there a problem?"

Illya narrowed her eyes. "You're lying. Prove it."

Harry tilted his head. "How?"

Illya pondered for a moment. "Cast a spell."

A ball of fire came to life in Harry's palm as a simultaneous Flame Freezing charm ensured he wasn't burned.

Illya blinked. "I can definitely sense magical energy coming from you, but now that I'm in close proximity, it definitely feels. . . off."

Harry nodded. "It's the same with your magecraft. It's similar, but there are definite differences."

"Why would you tell me this?"

Illya's question caught Harry entirely off guard. "I'm sorry?"

Illya glared at Harry. "I was an enemy just 10 minutes ago. Why would you tell me?"

Harry nodded. It was a valid question. "Because it doesn't matter. Even if you know my magic is different from yours, it wouldn't affect the outcome of a battle."

Operational security was essential and all, but only for the really vital and confidential topics. Such trivial things like this don't really need to be kept secret.

"And, above all, I trust you, Illya," Harry smiled. He probably shouldn't. Illya was murderous and unstable. She wanted Shirou dead. And yet. . .

Harry was more than willing to take the risk of placing his trust in her. Because that was what his friends had done for him.

Illya looked away. "What if, by trusting someone, all that happens is that you get hurt in the end?"

"I would rather trust and regret, than doubt and regret." Trust was a good thing. Perhaps the best of things. Without trust, civilizations couldn't be built and friendships couldn't form. All human ingenuity and progress was possible because of trust.

Someone who never trusts anyone must live a lonely life indeed.

Illya turned back to Harry. "So can I trust you?" Her vulnerable expression was back.

"With your life," Harry promised. It would take a _lot_ for Harry to betray someone.

Because Harry is well aware that once you lose someone's trust, even if you get it back, it'll never be the same. He'll only betray someone if it's for the Greater Good.

It's always for the Greater Good.

Illya grinned. "I'm glad. Now, teleport me again!"

"You're rather lucky, you know," Harry commented as they Apparated another hundred feet ahead. "Most Apparitions have an extremely loud crack accompanying it. Silent ones are rare."

Illya sharply spun her head, scrutinizing Harry. "Most?! Are there others out there that can teleport?"

Oops.

Oh well. Harry didn't really mind if Illya knew. It's not like knowing Harry is from another world would really affect anything.

Harry didn't really understand why some people would never tell _anything_ about themselves. He's met several during the war against Voldemort. Battle-hardened veterans cloaked in mystery.

Harry always found it really annoying when they wouldn't tell him anything. What do they have to hide? What was so important? Did they _have_ to hold their cards so tightly to their chest?

Harry was confident enough in his abilities to reveal a few of his cards. He only needed to keep the really Dark magic under lock and key. But the fact that he was from another world? Completely irrelevant and useless information. Interesting, for sure, but in the grand scale of things, it simply does not matter.

It was with that reasoning that Harry firmly divulged, "Yeah. I came from another world, where teleportation was common."

". . . what?"

"It's for that reason that I'm technically not a Servant. While I arrived through a magic circle and had Command Seals forced onto me, I don't think I have much of a connection to the Grail. I was still alive, for one, when I arrived." Harry shrugged. "Besides, only 7 Servants are supposed to be summoned. I'm the eighth."

"WHAT?!"

"Yeah, Caster confirmed it for me," Harry idly scanned his hand. "I'm not entirely sure where this body came from."

From what Harry could gather, magic circles automatically engrave Command Seals on everyone that passes through it, which explains why he's bound by Command Seals. Beyond that, however, Harry had no clue as to how he's occupying a brand new body.

Oh well. He'll take it. It's not as if he's feeling any mental degradation or instability or anything.

"The Holy Grail can only summon seven Servants!" Illya's face scrunched up in confusion. "How is that even possible?"

"I wasn't summoned. I came _through_ a magic circle, but I wasn't _summoned_."

Illya's eyes widened. "Kaleidoscope, the Second Magic of dimension traveling."

"Rin mentioned that before. I confess I really don't know what Kaleidoscope is or how it works. Oh, you mentioned a lost Magic. What is it?"

How do you _lose _a magic? Losing knowledge of a magic was understandable, but losing a magic altogether?

"The lost Magic. . ." Illya slowed to a stop. "It's what the Einzberns have been seeking for a thousand years."

Losing a magic, and not recovering it for a _millenium_?! That's gotta hurt.

"It's the Third Magic, Heaven's Feel. It's a miracle that allows for the materialization of the soul." Illya's words pierced Harry. His blood froze.

Soul magic?

Harry's expression darkened as his magic swirled in agitation within him. "Elaborate." His tone was unmistakably commanding.

Illya knit her eyebrows. "What do you mean? When a person dies, the soul returns to the Root. However, Heaven's Feel would allow his soul to remain in the physical world, thus achieving immortality." She chuckled bitterly. "It's the salvation of humanity."

"The Root?" Harry asked.

"It's a metaphysical location that exists out of time and space, and it is the source of all events and phenomena in the universe. Magecraft, Magic, and Mystery originate from the Root. Heroic Spirits too are summoned from the Root," Illya clarified. "It is the place where souls go after they die, and it's impossible for a soul to be recovered once it's been dispersed. By materializing the soul, you prevent it from dispersing, allowing it to remain in the world."

What. The. _Hell?_

That. . . that isn't how death works. Not even close. Harry should know. He has, after all, died once before.

And a Root?! A location where souls reside in and all magic originates? It feels. . . _wrong_. As in, the very idea of such a thing made Harry's skin crawl.

What's _wrong_ with the world Harry's in? Harry could understand having different customs and history. He could even understand having different magic.

But _death_ itself being different?!

Harry didn't want to dwell on such things. In fact, he didn't even want to think about it.

"Alright. Hey, Illya, are we almost there yet?" Harry desperately tried to change the subject.

Fortunately, Illya allowed it. "Soon. Oh, we can take a shortcut. You see that tree over there? Yeah, that one. Teleport there."

They Apparated on top of a tree, easily balancing on a branch.

"We're back in my territory," Illya nimbly hopped down, kicking off of the tree trunk and landing lightly on her feet. "The castle isn't far from here."

Harry took the path of least resistance. He simply dropped down, canceling out his momentum right before he hit the ground.

A sudden thought struck him. "Is there anyone else there?"

Illya nodded. "My two maids, Sella and Leysritt, live with me."

"And they're well aware of the Holy Grail War, I presume?"

"Yup."

They ambled through the forest, a canopy of leaves and branches overhead. Harry quickly sidestepped an innocent spot on the ground. "Was that a trap?"

Illya gave a disappointed sigh. "You sensed it, didn't you?"

Harry stared at her disbelievingly. "Did you _want_ me to step on the trap?"

Illya laughed at the look on his face. "It would've been hilarious. Of course I wanted you to step on it. Don't worry, it's not harmful."

"I doubt it." Harry reached out with his magic just in case there would be any more traps up ahead.

Illya stilled. "Don't. . . don't you trust me?"

Awww damnit. Puppy dog eyes should be illegal.

Harry sighed and turned around. He walked back to the same spot, taking a deep breath. His intuition told him not to. His magic told him not to. Hell, his common sense told him not to.

But those eyes. . .

Harry cautiously placed his foot on top of the spot.

The resulting blast launched him off his feet. Illya had been correct; it hadn't hurt at all, but. . .

Illya laughter reached Harry's ears. Harry ignored it. There were much more pressing matters to attend to. Harry landed, paying no heed to the pain that shot up his legs. He inspected his white cloak.

It was _filthy_.

Harry had never cast a cleaning charm so fast before in his life.

XxX

"What just happened?" Rin demanded.

The events that just transpired seemed almost surreal. Berserker attacked, a fight went down, then Harry left with Illyasviel.

If Rin didn't know better, she'd swear that Kotomine had slipped some hallucinogens into her drink again for the purpose of "training," but she hasn't even been near the priest for days.

_Did I just see the Sorcerer leave with Illyasviel? _Archer's incredulous voice (thought?) echoed in RIn's head.

_You did._

"Harry just left us," Saber said hollowly.

"I know that, but _why_?" Rin couldn't think of a single reason why Harry would suddenly change his mind and join forces with Illyasviel.

"I do not know," Saber. "He must have had a purpose in doing so."

"He did," Shirou spoke up.

Rin and Saber turned to him. Rin took it a step further and grabbed Shirou's collar, pulling him in close. "Yeah? And how would you know?"

Shirou blinked. "Isn't it obvious? It's because he needed to save Illya."

Rin frowned. "From what?"

Shirou shrugged. "I don't know. Harry must've seen something, though. Something we didn't see. And it must've been big, for Harry to go with her like that."

Rin released Shirou. "I don't understand. I was there. Nothing suggested that Illyasviel needed to be saved from anything."

Sure, Illyasviel had sounded devastated for a moment when talking about hating Shirou, but that shouldn't be enough reason for Harry to leave.

Right?

To be a mage is to walk hand in hand with death, after all.

It shouldn't be surprising that most mage's backstories are tragic and contains events that most mundanes would consider unthinkable.

Illyasviel had probably suffered through some tragedy early on that caused her to develop such an intense hatred for Shirou. While unfortunate, it wasn't uncommon.

So why did Harry react so strongly to it?

Unless. . .

_Hogwarts._

Rin's eyes widened. To be a mage is to walk hand in hand with death, but Harry Potter wasn't a mage. He hadn't lived the life of a mage.

Which means. . . what Rin saw as a normal occurrence, Harry saw a little girl who needed help.

Rin sighed. Troublesome. "I understand now."

Saber tilted her head. "What is it?"

Rin looked at Saber. "You heard the pain in Illyasviel's voice earlier, correct?"

Saber nodded. "I had not expected such torment and suffering in one so young. She has gone through much hardship."

"Right. To us, that's normal. Being a mage is difficult. Terrible things will happen. To be a mage is to walk with death."

"But to Harry," Saber realized, "It's something unforgivable."

"Exactly. He heard the pain in Illyasviel's voice, and he must've wanted to save her from it. Save her from herself."

_How foolish of him_. Archer's voice was downright cynical and perhaps even scornful.

_I know_.

"Which means. . ." Saber directed her cool gaze towards Shirou.

"Precisely," Rin grabbed Shirou's collar again, pulling him close.

"Whoa wait! What's wrong?" Shirou brought up his hands in defense.

"The reason why Harry left and went with Illyasviel was because she was in pain. That pain is somehow related to you," Saber outlined.

"Tell us, _Shirou_, what have you done to Illyasviel?" Rin smiled at Shirou. It wasn't a nice smile. "Tell us everything. Leave _nothing _out."

Shirou gulped in fear.

XxX

"Good evening. My name is Harry Potter. It's a- HOLY HELL WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" Harry scrambled backwards from the nun who was wielding a large silver halberd with a red design running on the flat of the blade and was currently trying to cut Harry in two.

The nun, who had the same red eyes as Illya, glared at Harry. The gigantic halberd looked like an axe, except much more elegant and long. "What have you done to our mistress? Answer me. Sorcerer!"

"WHOA WHOA WHOA we can talk about this!" Harry Apparated backwards from a downward cleave that would've split Harry down the middle. Dang it, why do they always shoot first, talk second?! Have they never heard of diplomacy before?!

"You are the Servant that our mistress spared on the first night." A different nun was standing near the back, who also had red eyes. She was currently giving Harry a death stare.

"Sella, Leysritt, enough!" Illya ran forwards, holding out her arms in front of Harry in an effort to stop them.

The halberd-wielding nun rose up from her stance, lowering her weapon. "Illya-"

"Harry and I came to an agreement. He's my servant now!" Illya grinned. "There's no need to kill him."

The calm-looking nun in the back tilted her head. "What about Berserker? Is he dead?"

"Berserker isn't dead. Berserker is strong, strong enough so that even Harry wasn't strong enough to defeat him," Illya smiled smugly at Harry.

"If I just had a wand. . ." Harry groused. That fight was completely unfair. Berserker's Noble Phantasm was just _unfair_.

Illya ignored him. "Harry's not my Servant though. He's my servant, like you two."

The nun slammed the butt of the halberd onto the marble floor. The ring reverberated throughout the hall. "Can he be trusted?"

Oh? Her speech was broken, as if she didn't know Japanese.

Illya looked at Harry. "Yes. Yes he can."

"Forgive me, mistress, for not taking your word for it," The nun in the back didn't relent on her death glare. If anything, it only intensified. "Foul rogue. What have you done to our mistress? A mind-altering spell?"

"Number one, I would never do that," Harry shifted uncomfortably underneath her glare. "Number two, do you think Berserker would let me alter Illya's mind without doing something about it?"

"That is irrelevant-" She was interrupted by Illya.

"Sella, just drop it. I trust him," Illya clasped Harry's hand. "He won't betray me."

"And if he does betray you? Like how Kiri-"

"Sella!" The other nun, presumably Leysritt, hissed in warning.

"He won't."

Those two words held an absolute conviction in them.

Harry's heart warmed a little at that.

Sella's eyes narrowed even more. "Harry Potter. Sorcerer. Illya has already told us many things about you."

"Good things, I hope," Harry smiled.

"Whether or not we allow you here depends on your answer to this question. Why did you save Illya from Archer's arrow on the night that you met?"

Harry frowned. "Because I didn't want her to die. She's just a kid-"

"No. I don't believe that," Sella interrupted. "Give me the real answer."

Illya turned to her, confused. "Wait, but that is the real answer." She turned back to Harry. "Is it?"

Harry was silent for a moment. He regarded Sella with a thoughtful gaze. "I see. So that's how it is."

Leysritt fell back into a stance, tensing up and prepared to rush Harry. "What is?"

"I knew that the culture of our worlds were different, but I wasn't aware that they were _that_ different." Harry sighed and closed his eyes tiredly before opening them again to reveal determined green orbs. "I'm not entirely sure how it is here, but I believe in a thing called compassion, and empathy, and - you know, overall qualities that make a good human being. I mean, come on! Is it really that hard to understand?"

Leysritt and Sella stared at each other before nodding in unison.

Harry facepalmed. "Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant."

He can see where Illya got her philosophy from.

XxX

Caster leaned against the wall.

All of her planning. Down the drains.

She let out a sound close to a whimper. It wasn't a whimper, because she doesn't whimper, ever, but it was pretty close.

She had known when Berserker and the Einzbern princess attacked the Emiya Compound due to her veritable net over the city. At first, she had been fearful that against Berserker, Harry might perish. It was a small chance, but it was still a possibility, especially if Harry had to protect the two useless Masters he's allied himself with.

But no. The princess and Berserker didn't kill Harry. They did something much, much worse.

They recruited him.

Damn this little white-haired princess. First, she's the Master of Heracles. Next, she takes away the Sorcerer, ruining all of her plans.

Heracles was already scary enough by himself. Teamed up with Harry Potter. . . Caster wasn't sure if there even was anyone that could stand up to them. Getting close enough to use Rule Breaker is now nothing but a wishful dream.

She can still get Saber, though, so kidnapping Sakura is still a high priority.

XxX

Zouken gave a rattling sigh as he paced around in a dark corner of the Matou manor. Something slithered out of his teeth and disappeared into the folds of his clothing.

"Oh, my dear, this is proving to give me some difficulty. All the Servants have been summoned already, so acquiring one for myself isn't an easy task." Zouken held up a single withered finger.

"However, I managed to devise a method. You see, the current Assassin is an irregular Servant. He is an aberration.

"What if his body can be used as a gateway to summon another Servant?

"What if his Servant body occupying the false role of Assassin is enough to pull out a true Assassin?

"Then it would be outrageously difficult, requiring centuries' worth of knowledge and a large amount of mana, but not impossible to use Assassin's flesh as a catalyst to summon the True Assassin."

Zouken spread his hands magnanimously. "And that is what I shall do. Pretty good, hmm?"

Sakura didn't answer. Then again, with all of the worms swarming over and _through_ her body, Zouken doubted she could even answer.

No matter. Zouken's used to not having anyone appreciate his genius.

"I admit, I didn't intend for you to. . . train tonight. But, well. . . you're almost perfect. When I came to pick you up tonight, it only confirmed my hypothesis." Zouken dropped the psychology book on the ground. It landed with a thud. Sakura's eyes didn't even move.

In his defense, it's been too long since he was able to understand meaningful human emotion. Even longer since he has felt any of them. So he had to check a textbook to make sure. He didn't want to make a mistake, after all.

"You're feeling. . . hope, aren't you." It wasn't a question. Sakura didn't answer.

Zouken smiled. "Well, my dear Sakura. With your newfound hope. . . so many things will happen. You just need a little bit more preparation."

They do after all, say that hope is a good thing, perhaps even the best of things.

And for Zouken, it will certainly be the best thing that's happened to him in a very long time.

XxX

"Back again so soon, Lancer?" Kotomine didn't need to turn around to tell that Lancer was already there.

Kotomine lifted the cup of mapo sauce he'd. . . liberated from the restaurant. The aroma that drifted up to his nose was exquisite. Some would call him a monster for drinking the sauce directly. Others would call it disgusting. There are even a few that would label him a heretic and hunt him down for his blasphemous ways. But Kotomine didn't care.

He just wanted something good to drink.

Kotomine took a sip, relishing how his taste buds exploded and sweat immediately began trickling down.

"Berserker attacked the Emiya reside- What in the name of the Light are you doing, man?! That's _disgusting!" _

Kotomine paused. "You can tell what this is?"

"Well, yeah! What, did you think I didn't have a sense of smell?"

Servants have heightened senses, Kotomine belatedly remembered. "It's none of your concern. Continue with your report."

He could feel Lancer's judging stare on his back. He didn't care.

"Right, well, Berserker attacked and Harry joined forces with him," Lancer said casually.

"Apologies, but what did you just say? I don't think I heard you correctly," Kotomine was slightly worried. Was he growing old? Did Lancer just say that Harry Potter joined forces with _Berserker_?

"Technically, Harry Potter joined forces with Berserker's Master, the Einzbern princess, but that's pretty much the same as joining forces with Berserker." Lancer shrugged. "Makes no difference either way."

"I. . . I did not foresee that. Why would he be doing this? Unless. . ." Kotomine trailed off.

"So what do I do?" Kotomine saw Lancer twirl around his spear in his peripheral vision. An unconscious nervous action, Kotomine noted. While Lancer didn't show it on the surface, he was probably unsettled by the new alliance. "I can do a lot of things, but hanging around the Einzbern castle is something even I won't do. I'll get found out within seconds, and fighting Berserker would be exceedingly difficult."

"I believe in you," Kotomine said absently. "Go get 'em."

Lancer blinked. "Didn't you hear what I just said?"

"Yeah. Good luck, Lancer. You'll need it," Kotomine finally turned around and caught sight of Lancer's expression.

If there was a "bitch what the hell" face, then this would be it.

Kotomine smiled thinly. "Don't worry. Harry Potter won't kill you, and I don't think he'll let Berserker kill you either. In any case, if you're truly that worried, then just hang around the outskirts of the forest."

Somehow, Lancer wasn't assured.

XxX

Shinji giggled to himself. He told himself that it was a manly chuckle, but it was objectively a giggle. He was lying on his back in his bed.

"Tomorrow, we show Emiya what a true mage can do."

Next to him, Rider silently watched. Shinji couldn't tell what she felt, and he didn't care either. She was just a tool, nothing less, nothing more.

"Oh, the look on his face will be _beautiful_." Shinji spread out his arms. "When he sees everyone dropping like flies around him. . . so much for the Hero of Justice, hmm?"

Rider still didn't make a noise.

Shinji sighed. "You're boring, you know that? You never talk, you never do anything interesting. Come here."

She dutifully approached.

"Sit down."

Rider sat on the edge of the bed.

"Now stay still."

And as Shinji molested her body, Rider's expression remained stoic. For her Master, her true Master, she'll endure anything.

Because every second Shinji is focused on Rider is one less second he's focused on Sakura.

Still, the itch in her hand to rip off her blindfold couldn't seem to go away, no matter how hard Rider concentrated.

Soon.

Soon.

At least Shinji was too scared to go beyond touching. Spineless coward.

XxX

Harry looked around Illya's bedroom. It was large, larger than even the Hogwarts boy's dormitory designed to fit 5 boys. A large red couch faced the four poster canopied bed tucked away in the wall. There was a small round table with three seats.

Crystal chandeliers hung down from the ceiling, casting a warm yellow glow over the room. Large pillars supported the roof, and a plethora of rugs were thrown over the floor. Flames roared in the fireplace in an effort to fight back the cold.

"Do. . . do you like it?" Illya seemed almost shy, a stark contrast to her smug confident self earlier that night.

Harry turned to her, smiling. "It's awesome!"

And it truly was. Harry wasn't the type to surround himself with luxuries, but he can still appreciate them. And this room was definitely luxurious.

"It's as if this room was made for royalty," Harry took note of the very expensive looking vases and pottery. "It suits you."

Illya blushed. "Well, I am a princess, you know."

Huh?

"I don't know. . ." Harry stared quizzically at her. "You're a princess?"

"I am," Illya suddenly seemed very unsure of herself. "Umm. . ."

"Ah, I see. I almost forgot," Harry faced her fully, bending down slightly in an effort to lower the height difference.

"W-w-what are you doing!" Illya took a step backward, her face inexplicably very red, hand coming up as if to block Harry.

"I think proper introductions are in order," Harry brushed a strand of white hair out of his eyes.

Illya frowned, ceasing her protestations for a moment. "What do you mean? I already know your name, and you know mine."

Harry only smiled. Illya questioningly looked at him, body still slightly tense, as if expecting Harry to do something. Harry simply stretched out his hand. "My name is Harry Potter, a Sorcerer, Servant of Shirou, and servant of Illya. It's a pleasure to meet you."

A repeat of what he had said to Illya on the first night they met.

Illya's mouth fell open for a second before she abruptly closed it. She observed his hand for a moment, before raising her head, red eyes peering into his green ones. If she looked really closely, she could almost see a twinkle in his eyes.

And this time, Illya reciprocated the gesture, reaching out with her hand and shaking his own. Harry's smile widened.

"My name is Illyasviel von Einzbern, the Einzbern Princess, Master of Berserker, and master of Harry Potter. It's a pleasure to meet you as well."

Harry let go of her hand and rose up again to his full height. "Well, then, Illya. Let's have fun, shall we?"

Illya blinked, caught off guard. "Fun?"

Channeling his inner Sirius, Harry grinned mischievously at her. "Fun."

* * *

**Edit: When I wrote this chapter, I had been watching Naruto and One Punch Man, which is why there were elements of both in this chapter. When I re-read the chapter though. . . _o__h gods why did I do that?_ _The god damned cringe. . . _I had been trying to capture the feeling and emotions and hype of OPM and Naruto. And it failed. Epically. So I cleaned this chapter up a bit. **

* * *

**Illya's death hit me hard. **

**As for Harry revealing information to Illya- and just about everyone else. . . well, trust me when I say that there is, in fact, a reason as to why he does that. I ****will not reveal the reason yet, because spoilers, but there is one. ****And, as we've just seen, it just bit him in the ass with Caster. This is the first time, and it will not be the last. **

**Harry is not the most psychologically sane individual around. He hides it really well, and he doesn't even know it sometimes, but nobody can come out unscathed after a war. Especially if the war contains unspeakable horrors (cough Voldemort.) Sirius's death, like in canon, hit him really hard. The only difference is that since Harry was actually _good_ at magic, he was able to take his anger out on things other than Dumbledore's trinkets. So he definitely did a lot of things that he now regrets.**

**Fiendfyre was able to take away several of Berserker's lives, but God Hand is overpowered. Even with a wand, there isn't much Harry could do against Berserker. Conversely, Berserker can't do anything to Harry, because of Apparition and Fading, so they'd go about even. At least, that's how I think the power scaling works.**

**Harry is now without a wand. Don't worry, he'll acquire a real wand soon enough. **

**At the time, it made sense to Harry to let Shinji leave, but when he reflected on it, he realized just how scummy Shinji had to be for his intuition to react that negatively. **

**Illya attacked the compound head-on because, although she didn't show it, she was unsettled by how Harry, Shirou's Servant, had saved her. It went against her entire world view. So she wasn't content to sit and wait for him; she actively sought him out.**

**Harry left with Illya because Illya reminded him of himself, and he genuinely wanted to help. Not because it's his "saving people thing," but because it mattered personally to him. **

**Some unexpected things arose when I was writing this chapter, which is why it took so long. I'll try to be faster next time.**

**Thank you all for reading, and please review :)**

**-euphoric**


	7. Wand

Harry blinked as he stared around himself. He was back in the clearing. "I don't recall falling asleep - "

The sky above him cracked before turning black. The sun became a moon the color of blood - blood moon. The trees around him withered and died, crumbling into dust, and it suddenly felt both boiling hot and freezing cold all at once.

This was mildly disconcerting.

Voldemort's hand shot out and grabbed Harry by the throat. His red eyes narrowed dangerously. "What the actual _fuck_ is wrong with you?!"

Harry's eyes widened. Voldemort never used _that_ word - he considered it to be beneath him. For him to use it. . . This must be serious.

"Is there a problem?"

Voldemort's grip tightened around Harry's throat. "A problem?" he hissed. "So you can't even see it, can you?"

Harry considered it. "Is it because I went with Illya? Because I'm not going to - "

"I don't _care_ about what you want to do with Illya. So you want a protege - fine! Mold her like Dumbledore molded you - fill her head with nonsensical delusions."

Harry frowned. "I didn't go with her because I wanted a protege. I went with her because she was suffering, and I could do something to help her - "

"_Whatever_," Voldemort said dismissively. "You saw your past self in her or something - I don't care. What I do care about, however, is the frankly _absurd_ way you've been acting in the past few days."

"Absurd way?" Harry asked in confusion.

Voldemort released Harry's throat and stepped back, clenching his hand tightly into a fist while his red eyes seemed to pierce through Harry. "Let us analyze the events, Harry Potter. On the night that you arrived, you had been more than ready to kill Shirou Emiya if he had forced you to hurt innocents with the Command Seal. That is perhaps the _only_ redeeming quality you have - you may dislike killing, but if you have to, you will."

Harry nodded slowly. "Indeed."

"Then why the hell is Illya still alive?" Voldemort spat. "You not killing Illya on the first night you met - that's understandable. You had just woken up after arriving in a new world, and you were up against an enemy you knew nothing about. Attempting to go for the kill when you don't even know the full situation is just asking for trouble."

"That, and she was a little girl," Harry supplied helpfully.

"But tonight," Voldemort continued, ignoring Harry, "You had the chance to kill Illya - don't lie, instead of Stunning her, you could've used any other spell - but you didn't kill her."

"Saber - " Harry began but was cut off immediately.

"I don't _care_ what Saber thought. She has her own code of honor - so _what_? It's not as if you hadn't killed people before that the mudblood wanted to spare. Plenty of times, actually. In fact, you may have been the _only _person fighting against me other than Alastor Moody and a few assassins that didn't hesitate to kill first, ask questions later. Your friends from Hogwarts were using Stunning spells against the giants while you were busy Avada Kedavra'ing my entire backline! You may like diplomacy - hell, just like Dumbledore, you _worship _diplomacy and peaceful tactics, but in the end, when it doesn't work out, you can and you have resorted to killing."

"And when the time calls for it, I am still willing to kill," Harry promised.

"Are you? Are you really willing?" Voldemort asked skeptically. "Then why didn't you kill Illya tonight? After both Avada Kedavra and Fiendfyre failed to work on Berserker, you should've just cut your losses and cut down Illya. But somehow, Saber managed to convince you to _spare her life_ and _attack Berserker_. And after that, for some strange inane reason you had this little mental breakdown - "

"I prefer the term revelation."

" - and then you suddenly decided to abandon Saber, Shirou, and Rin and join forces with Illya! Don't you _see _just how _absurd_ that is?!" Voldemort cracked a knuckle, and something exploded off in the distance. "And see, if that was the only thing that happened, then it might be excused. A single incident is understandable - unlike me, you're not perfect. But _no_, it has happened _multiple times_ since you've arrived in this world."

"Multiple times when I've behaved in absurd ways?" Harry frowned. "I'm afraid you have to elaborate."

"First off, you didn't kill Lancer. When he called a 'time out', you _listened_ and stopped your attack. Can we just take a moment to appreciate just how _foolish _that was? Even if Lancer was cool with you and he wasn't going to attack - he could _still be forced to attack you by his Master with Command Seals_!" Voldemort flung his hands into the air. "All the Servants that you're fighting - they're _all_ ticking time bombs! It doesn't matter how friendly or honorable they may be - their Master can and will force them to kill you and your friends."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "So you're saying I should kill someone simply because they have the potential to hurt me? You know that's not how I operate."

"Then what about Shinji Matou?"

Harry winced. "Ah. _That_."

"I can't believe you let him get away. I can't believe _Rin_ let him get away. I can understand Shirou letting him - he's even more idiotic than you are - but you and Rin should have known better."

"Okay, so in my admittedly weak defense - I hadn't wanted to immediately incapacitate him because he might've pulled out some surprise."

"Surprise?" Voldemort said dubiously.

"He had confessed to placing the Bounded Field around school," Harry explained. "That meant we were on his turf." He looked to the side. "Besides, I can't really blame him for acting the way he did. He is, after all, incapable of both defending himself and providing his Servant mana to defend him."

Voldemort scoffed. "Oh please, don't give me that. Not even a year ago, if someone had been hurting others even if it was to save themselves, you would've stopped that person immediately without a second thought. Besides, I know you felt your little intuition warning you about him. Last time it reacted that strongly, you had been fighting Bellatrix. The Harry Potter I know would've incapacitated then interrogated Shinji the second he met him." He leered at Harry. "Which begs the question: what changed?"

"What do you mean 'what changed?'" Harry bristled. "I'm the same as before - "

"Are you blind? I have literally met _blind _people that can see more than you." Voldemort held up a finger. "First, you let Shinji Matou go even though by all rights you should've incapacitated him. And even now, you're planning on - what, relocating him? You're not even going to imprison him just in case he may be useful later! Have you forgotten that one time you held two of my Death Eaters hostage?"

"You want me to hold Shirou's friend hostage?"

"Don't give me that. You and I both know that Shinji is not Shirou's 'friend.' Moving on though, against Lancer, you _stopped your attack_. You _let him go_. There were literally fifty-six different other things you could've done that would've been _infinitely_ better, but somehow you managed to choose the _worst_ option!"

"Okay, but - "

"And then, for the coup de grace, when Illya and Berserker attacked, you used a _Stunning spell_ on Illya. What the hell is _wrong_ with you?" Voldemort breathed heavily. "Ever since we've arrived in this world, you've grown weaker and more foolish!"

"I object to that," Harry frowned.

"Overruled!" Voldemort snarled. "Before you came to this world and had been fighting Rasputin, you had been going for the kill. And then after we arrived. . . things went downhill from there, until you literally _let an enemy walk away, no strings attached_. And then, if that hadn't been bad enough - you _joined forces with a mentally unstable enemy!_"

"Illya's not mentally unstable," Harry defended.

Voldemort raised his eyebrow.

"Well, okay, maybe a little," Harry amended.

"Bottom line is, right now, you are acting like an incompetent Ministry rookie Auror who can't even distinguish between a Stunning spell and a Cruciatus Curse! So tell me, Harry Potter, _why are you acting this way_?!" Voldemort leaned back, awaiting Harry's answer.

And quite honestly, Harry didn't have one. Initially, he had been ready to dismiss Voldemort's claims - it wasn't the first time Voldemort had gotten mad at him for something he did. However, Voldemort raised several very good points. His actions have been steadily declining from the realm of competency and mastery to inexperience and naivety.

"You're. . . you're right," Harry breathed. "Why didn't I immediately incapacitate Shinji? While I wouldn't stoop to your level and use Legilimency on him, I should've at least interrogated him. He literally confessed to draining people of mana and placing the Bounded Field over the school. And I let him leave. And even now, instead of hunting him down, I'm in the Einzbern castle."

Voldemort nodded, gesturing for Harry to continue.

"And the fights against Berserker and Lancer. . . I could've handled it so much better. Against Lancer, all I did was reveal my abilities to Lancer without gaining anything in return." Harry paused. "I mean, I didn't reveal my entire arsenal, but he now has a general grasp on what I can do with Transfiguration."

Harry stared down at his hands. "And Illya - " Harry shook his head. "Nah, pretty sure I handled that perfectly. I know it probably doesn't mean much to you, seeing as you lack a heart and all, but Illya. . . she reminds me of myself when Sirius had died and I went berserk, so to speak."

Voldemort's eyes unfocused. "I remember that. I lost a good chunk of my forces to you." He grinned. "I would like to thank the people that stopped your rampage. It helped me out a _lot_."

Harry smirked. "But at the same time, because my friends helped me remember myself again, I was able to defeat you."

Voldemort sighed heavily. "For the last time, the only reason you defeated me was because of pure _bullshit _\- namely, your Fading, resurrection, and the fact that it was a 2v1. To be honest, I would've been _more_ afraid if you had been in your rampaging state."

Harry shrugged. "PoTatO, pOtAtO. In any case, while I admit I could've done things a lot better with Shinji and Lancer, against Illya - "

"You were equally as foolish, if not even more so," Voldemort growled. "You could've knocked out Illya. Those floating silver bird constructs were easily counterable, and you had already landed a Stunning spell on her once. Why, pray tell, didn't you just knock her out, Apparate her away from Berserker, and _then_ try to be her friend?"

Harry opened his mouth to speak but then froze. Why hadn't he done that? Berserker couldn't have done anything to stop him, and Harry could've Faded through the silver wires and Apparated Illya out.

Voldemort must've seen the realization in Harry's eyes because he nodded approvingly. "Finally, you're starting to understand just how _stupid_ you've been."

"Dear Merlin," Harry stared down at his hands in horror. "What's _wrong_ with me?"

"Do you really want to know?" Voldemort asked.

Harry nodded.

"You've run out of luck."

Harry blinked. "Come again?"

"In your fight against me - and all subsequent fights afterwards (though I can't really call them fights) you only managed to win because of the sheer dumb _luck _you possess." Voldemort smirked. "It just so happens that you've run out."

"That's. . . not it."

"It is."

"Isn't."

"Is."

"Isn't."

"Isn't."

"I'm not falling for that one again." What could be the cause of Harry's degeneration? His mind feels fine, as does his magic and his body. He couldn't sense any external forces affecting him. Quite frankly, there should be nothing -

Ah.

_That_.

"Voldemort," Harry sat down on a couch that materialized underneath him and steepled his fingers. "I believe the reason is simple." He met Voldemort's curious gaze. "It's psychological."

Voldemort snorted. "Well, obviously. I can sense no obvious strain on your magic, and your body itself is in peak physical condition. Whatever your problem is, it's in your mind."

Harry nodded. "Quite simply. . . the beings in this world are too weak. Well, not _weak_ weak," he hastily amended. "But - well. Saber, Lancer, Berserker, Rider are literal _legends,_ yet none of them can even _scratch_ me. They all use physical attacks for the most part, and against a wizard, physical attacks just aren't a good idea unless they're used in tandem with magic."

He paced around the clearing. "Without a wand, I can't exactly _defeat_ them - I don't have enough firepower - but they can't kill me either. Hell, none of them can stop even my _Apparition_! Not to mention how it's just _easier_ to Fade in this world."

"Fading should be easier in this world," Voldermot agreed. "Recall how Saber said that the Will of the Planet is constantly trying to erase a Servant from existence. Whenever you Fade, you are essentially removing yourself from Reality, and as such the process would be facilitated by the Will of the Planet."

Harry considered. "Huh. You may be correct. In any case, Fading used to have a massive strain on my mind and body, which is why I typically only used it in the last resort, but ever since arriving in this world. . . well, to put it in perspective, against Rasputin, I only Faded when all my other spells failed. But here, I Faded when _my wand exploded_. I could've done _anything_ else - Apparate, create a small shield - but my instinctive action was to Fade out of existence."

"So you're saying your Fading, which was already bullshit before, has grown stronger?"

"Yeah."

"That's - that's broken."

"It is. In any case, I honestly don't have to worry about my life anymore - there hasn't been a single person I've met so far that is a legitimate threat. The only thing that can defeat magic is magic, and they just don't have magic or anything on its level. And that is what led to my degeneration."

Voldemort tilted his head questioningly. "How so?"

"I have unconsciously let my guard down," Harry clenched his fists. "Back in our world, I lived in a constant state of battle-readiness. But now. . . without a tangible - or even intangible - threat, I no longer need to live in such a state. It's similar to how even the strongest warrior would grow weaker in peacetime - only the process that typically spans years happened in a matter of days for me." Harry shook his head in bewilderment. "I don't even know why."

Voldemort snapped his fingers. "Your wand."

Harry frowned. "I don't have one."

"Exactly," Voldemort crossed his arms. "You've had your wand since you were, what, five years old?"

"Give or take."

"And in that time, you've been separated from it only a handful of times, and never more than a day or so. Most wizards form a strong attachment to their wands - the only time a wizard doesn't need his wand is when he's dead. A wizard's true power can only be drawn out by a wand. Wands, after all, single-handedly propelled wizards to the top of the food chain."

"I don't see how that matters," Harry said.

Voldemort sighed. "It _matters_ because wizards subconsciously associate their wands with being powerful. I do it, Dumbledore does it, and you do it too. When we are wandless, it feels as if we're missing a limb. And we feel weaker - we _are_ weak. People would say that a wand is a wizard's biggest strength - but at the same time, it's also our biggest crutch."

Harry nodded in agreement. "So the combination of those two factors - nobody being a threat and me being wandless - has led to my rapid deterioration."

"That, and the fact that your mental state has always been. . . slightly questionable."

"What do you - " Harry paused as he considered it. "Ehh, fair enough."

Most normal people don't snap and go on a killing spree when their godfather is killed. There was a reason why magical education started at 11 years old and not five. Especially with Dumbledore's _unique_ training method -

Harry banished those thoughts.

"How should I fix this?" he asked. "I mean, it's not as if I'm going to go up to my enemies and give them a foolproof strategy on how to defeat me."

Voldemort shrugged. "I don't know how to restore your previous constant combat state. Now that you're aware of the problem, however, I imagine it'll soon restore by itself - the mind is a marvelous thing. If nothing works, I suppose you can always just let one of your friends die."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Y'know, the whole point of getting back to my previous level of proficiency is to make sure the people around me don't die."

"Yeah, whatever."

"Speaking of which. . . what exactly happened?" Harry inquired. "I don't recall falling asleep."

Voldemort shrugged. "I have no idea."

A moment of silence as they pondered on it.

"Ehh, I probably passed out or something. I had never used wandless magic to that extent, after all." Harry nodded and stood up. "I know I've never said this before, but. . . thank you."

Voldemort's eyes widened in surprise.

Harry chuckled. "If you hadn't brought it up, then my mental state would've undoubtedly continued to decline and I would've grown weaker and weaker - and I wouldn't have noticed at all." He scowled at the thought. Had he truly became that idiotic and complacent in such a short amount of time? It seemed impossible.

Voldemort smirked smugly. "Well, someone had to speak up about your irrationality, and it certainly wasn't going to be your friends." He paused. "I hope you're not expecting me to say 'you're welcome.'"

Harry laughed. "Naturally."

They stood there in silence for a moment.

"Well, I guess I'll go."

Voldemort nodded. "Do me a favor, and actually display some competence in your actions this time - " He froze before his image flickered. Harry frowned. This had never happened before.

"Voldemort?"

Voldemort's image stabilized, but something was decidedly _off_ about him. It took Harry a second to realize it, but when he did, his wand automatically materialized in his hand. Voldemort was entirely emotionless - there was no arrogance, no amusement, not cruelty - nothing.

"Who are you?" Harry demanded.

Voldemort stepped forward, and Harry held back a wince. It was wrong - it was so _so_ wrong; instead of the typical smooth, almost dancer-like movements Voldemort had, it seemed as if each individual muscle was being controlled by a puppeteer that didn't quite get the timing down right, resulting in jerky, uncoordinated movements. Harry could see Voldemort's muscles flexing at random intervals - contracting then relaxing immediately afterwards as if _something_ was testing them out.

"- - -"

Harry frowned. "What?"

The thing that looked like Voldemort but was definitely _not_ Voldemort paused for a moment - all of his muscles locked up rigidly - before each individual muscle strand on Voldemort's twitched consecutively, one after another, until there was something vaguely resembling a smile on his face.

"- - -"

Harry backed away slowly. "Voldemort, if this is your idea of a joke, it isn't funny - "

A small twitch of Voldemort's hand was all the warning Harry got before Voldemort _blurred_ forward and his cold fingers were touching Harry's forehead, forcefully pushing down on it and Harry cried out as he felt a searing acute _pain_, which shouldn't even be _possible_ in his dream -

And then everything went black.

XxX

"Harry? Harry. I command you to get up!"

Harry's eyes snapped open to see Illya staring down at him. He smiled. "Hello there, Illya."

"What happened?" Illya demanded. "Why did you pass out?"

Harry chuckled as he tried to sit up - and then his chuckles turned into a groan as his muscles protested. "Ah, it's nothing."

Flooding the body with magic was a great way to massively enhance one's physical capabilities, but it came with its drawback. Namely, a wizard will wake up sore as hell the day after.

Healing magic gently trickled through Harry's body, soothing the bones and muscles. After a moment, he was able to sit up.

Illya glanced at him suspiciously.

"How long was I unconscious?"

"All night. I couldn't wake you. It's morning right now."

Harry glanced out the window, where sunlight streamed in. "So it is." He blinked before looking down. "Did I sleep in your bed?"

Illya nodded. "Yeah."

Harry's head instinctively whipped around, expecting Rin to pop in any moment with her _comments_. Thankfully, she wasn't there.

He still couldn't believe that he didn't know the _other_ meaning for the word _sleep_. Hell, he couldn't believe that Sirius never taught him it. Sirius had once taught him all the different ways to, _ahem_, tie someone up, but apparently such basic colloquialisms like _sleep_ didn't matter to Sirius.

"Sella is already making breakfast for us. Come on, let's eat," Illya turned around and began walking away, clearly expecting Harry to follow.

Harry watched her bemusedly. She was definitely acting like a princess. Oh well. He was hungry anyway. He got up, cast a quick Cleaning charm on himself, and -

_SMACK_.

Illya turned around, confused. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Harry mumbled. He had just facepalmed rather audibly, but for good reason.

Last night, he had entered the Einzbern Castle and he hadn't done _anything_. He had literally walked into an unknown, potentially hostile territory, and all he had done was make his introductions.

Voldemort was right. Harry really had acted like a rookie Auror who only got in because of nepotism and bribery.

Harry sent out a pulse of magic to gather information about his surroundings - then froze. "Illya?"

"Yes?"

"Umm. . . not to be rude, but are you human?" She didn't feel fully human. She felt. . . she felt like Voldemort, Harry realized, after he had undergone numerous rituals altering his body.

Illya blinked. "I'm a homunculus."

Harry nodded. "Ah, I see - " He paused. "Wait. _What?!_"

Illya nodded. "Yup."

"Oh." Homunculi were considered some of the darkest magic in his world - not only did it require creating a body, but it also required creating an artificial soul. If creating a functioning body that a soul can inhabit was hard, then creating a functioning soul that can inhabit a body is virtually impossible.

However. . . death in this world operated differently. Perhaps souls did too? He'll have to look into that. Later, though. For now. . .

"Can I have a strand of your hair?"

Illya's eyebrows scrunched together. "Why?"

"I need to create a wand."

"A wand?" Illya's frown deepened, as if she couldn't comprehend the idea, but she plucked a strand of hair from her head nonetheless and handed it to Harry. "Okay?"

Harry took the strand of hair, inspecting it carefully. If Illya wasn't fully human, then it would be improbable but still possible that her hair could channel magic through it without burning out. "I'll be right back," he said before spinning in place and Disapparating out.

One quick trip to England later and he was back with a single wand-length twig in his hand. He went through the preparation motions mechanically, not daring to have any hope. Once the strand of hair was inserted into the small hole, Harry sealed it back up.

Illya watched his actions with confusion in her gaze. "What are you doing?"

"Observe," Harry replied simply before he looked down at the wand in his hand. "Hey, uhh. . ." this was _way_ more awkward than before. "My name is Harry Potter. And - well, I've been acting kinda stupid for the past few days because I didn't have a wand. Also because of other reasons, but let's not dwell on that."

He could feel Illya's inquisitive stare on him.

"Without my old wand - a beautiful holly phoenix wand - it feels as if one of my limbs is missing, a limb that I cannot live without. And it would be great if I could get that limb back, and I think you can do it for me."

A single pulse went through his wand.

"I didn't realize it before, but. . . I miss my old level of competency and skill. I miss _having a wand_ \- being wandless had been horrendous," Harry paused. "And now, I need a wand more than ever. Because I have one more person to protect," he glanced at Illya, "And I need you for it. I know it's a lot to ask. But can you be my partner?"

For one horrible, gut-wrenching second, the wand remained lifeless in his hand. Then warmth traveled up his arm as sparks shot out of his wand - but unlike before, they were at full strength: brilliant red-and-gold sparks that lit up the room like dazzling fireworks.

It worked?

_It worked._

Illya's eyebrows rose in surprise as Harry grinned exuberantly. "So. . . did you just create a wand?" she asked hesitantly.

Harry's smile widened. "I did. No, not just any wand - a _good_ wand."

He waved his wand in one broad stroke, and everything in the room began floating and spinning in circles. "Ah, this is _brilliant._" Wands were definitely not appreciated enough by wizards. It was _wonderful_.

"Does having a wand matter?" Illya asked.

Harry chuckled. "Oh, trust me: it _matters_." He canceled the charm with a simple flick, relishing in the ease at which his magic was channeled. "Let's have breakfast."

Illya nodded, still slightly confused, but grinned. "Very well."

Harry had expected to have to spend long hours experimenting with different materials and runes to create a proper wand, perhaps even journeying to the Reverse Side of the World to procure materials. Instead, the perfect wand core was in front of him all along. Getting a proper wand was a lot simpler than he had expected.

He's not complaining though.

XxX

"Mistress, are you well? Did Harry do anything to you?" The second they walked into the dining hall - a large room with grand chandeliers and a massive table that seated twelve - the two maids had rushed up, promptly ignored Harry, and began questioning Illya.

"Need I stab?" Leysritt's broken speech was cold and emotionless.

Illya shook her head. "Nope. Harry passed out after he entered my room."

Harry winced. "There were extenuating circumstances - "

Sella laughed derisively. "Is that so? Perhaps the almighty Sorcerer is weaker than we thought."

Harry inclined his head. "You're free to have your own opinions." Incorrect ones, of course.

Sella's glare showed him just how much she appreciated his condescending comment. Harry simply responded with a polite smile with just a tinge of smugness in it. He had learned from Dumbledore, the master of condescension and patronization. He then turned his gaze towards the table, and paused.

Three plates at one end of the table. One plate at the other end, as far away as possible.

Illya saw as well. "Oh, come on. You can stop worrying," she said to Sella and Leysritt exasperatedly. "What is he going to do, _poison_ me?"

Sella and Leysritt shared a glance and Harry realized that yes, they did think he might try to poison her.

"Move Harry's plate over here now," Illya commanded.

Sella gave a grudging nod as Leysritt reluctantly moved the plate over to the seat opposite Illya's. Leysritt, Sella, and Illya all sat on one side, and Harry sat on the other. He glanced down. Bacon, eggs, toast - a proper English breakfast. While Illya looked like a mix between Japanese and European, the two maids looked purely European.

"Are you two also homunculi?" Harry asked.

Leysritt nodded. "Yes."

"Our sole purpose is to take care of and protect Illya," Sella narrowed her eyes at Harry. "Why?"

"Oh, it's nothing."

They finished breakfast quickly - or rather, Harry and Illya ate while Sella and Leysritt pretended to eat while staring at Harry with a laser focus.

"What do you want to do?" Harry asked as the two maids cleaned up the table.

Illya smiled brightly. "Show me your magic."

Harry smiled back with excitement in his eyes. "Gladly." He finally had a wand again. He intended to make good use of it.

XxX

Harry grinned in exhilaration as he shot off spell after spell, relishing in the experience. He only cast spells that Illya had already seen a variation of before, of course. Dragons made of flames soared through the sky as great earthen pillars rose from the ground. A magical shield surrounded them - it let light in, but it didn't let light out, resulting in everything happening inside staying inside.

Illya was staring slack-jawed at this point. Harry's wand twirled and a great geyser of water streamed out from the tip before it solidified into ice.

After being wandless for so long, having a wand felt _so good_.

"Alright, I'm done," Harry waved his wand and everything went back to normal. The shield collapsed.

"Wha - _what was that?!_" Illya finally demanded in disbelief and awe.

"Multiple transfigurations, conjurations, and charms," Harry answered.

Illya shook her head, her eyes wide. "Those were. . . those were High Thaumaturgy spells cast with the same speed as a Single-Action spell - no, _faster_! Without any incantations!"

Harry blinked. "What?" He didn't understand any of that.

"Single-Action spells are spells that can be cast in a second. High Thaumaturgy spells are spells with power at least A-rank or above. How powerful are you?" Illya breathed.

Harry grinned. "Powerful enough."

Illya stared at him silently for a moment. "If you really wanted to last night, you could've killed me without me even realizing it."

Harry paused. "Just because I _could_ do something doesn't mean I _would_."

Illya smiled. "Yeah, you told me already."

"That being said, however. . ." Harry flexed his fingers. "This Holy Grail War has gone on long enough and numerous innocents have been harmed already," He smiled dangerously. "Why don't you say we end it?"

Illya's eyes widened. "You mean - "

Harry nodded. "Yup. I can't keep on using non-lethal measures against Servants who attack me." He shook his head in self-loathing. "I should've done something to Caster and Rider when I first met them, but I didn't. I was foolish for doing that."

"Hmm. . . if you and Berserker combined forces, I daresay you two will be unstoppable," Illya smirked. "Very well. Who shall we go for first?"

"Someone I should've taken care of the moment I laid my eyes on him," Harry's wand spun lazily in his hand. "Shinji Matou."

XxX

"Okay. I can explain," Harry held up his hands placatingly. "It was an accident, I swear. For you see, I had hoped that you falling onto an iron spike from hundreds of feet up in the air would do some damage to you - or at least slow you down. I swear I didn't know that you would land _that way_."

Berserker slowly backed away from Harry, his entire stance defensive, his eyes locked on Harry, looking for any signs of movement.

"I really am sorry about that. It was an unfortunate accident." Harry sighed. "Look, I know we didn't get off to a good start. You tried to kill me, I set you on fire with the most destructive flames I know. . . but now that we're on the same side, we can work together, right? I mean, we both have a common interest: Illya's continual happiness and safety."

Berserker glanced at Harry skeptically.

Harry sighed. "Not you too. Is it really that weird to be kind and wish for a little girl to be happy?"

"Yes," came Illya's prompt reply. She frowned. "I don't think you fully comprehend the state of the world we live in."

Harry cocked his head. "You're right, I really don't."

"I guess we can fit in an impromptu modern history lesson before we storm Onii-chan's school," Illya mused. "Alright. So you already know that mages stay hidden in this world, right?"

Harry nodded. "Yup."

"Did you know that most mages hold no regard for human life, and they will do almost anything to further their own research?"

Harry's blood went cold. "What?"

Illya nodded casually. "Mages honestly don't have any morals. They don't see things like normal people do. All they care about is their own research, and ultimately reaching the Root. They can commit horrible crimes but they will not be targeted as long as the secrecy of magecraft is preserved."

Harry stared at Illya uncomprehendingly.

"Rin Tohsaka is a rare exception - her mage education was interrupted by her father's death. Most mages in the Mage Association are cruel and without empathy - some of them even make _me_ look like a good person. I've heard stories of them razing entire villages to the ground to fuel their rituals or kidnapping babies for experimentation."

". . . and _all_ mages are like that?!" Harry finally got out.

"With exceptions. Like Rin. And Onii-chan. And - " her expression darkened as she abruptly closed her mouth.

Harry scratched his head. "Well then. I admit, I did not know that." He shook his head in bewilderment. No wonder Illya thought it was so strange of him to just go with her.

"Well, let me just say that _I_ believe in concepts like morals. And empathy. And kindness," Harry rubbed his forehead. "_Wow_ \- wait," his head whipped around at Illya. _She_ didn't believe in concepts like morals and empathy and kindness because nobody had taught her them. Or perhaps someone once did, but the world around her forced her to discard them.

After all, for her to talk about the state of the world in such a casual, accepting manner. . . No. She may accept the society, but Harry will not.

Now he knows what to do after the Holy Grail War is finished.

XxX

"Out of curiosity, why do you hate Shirou so much?" They were back in Illya's room, Berserker having reverted back to Spirit Form (he didn't seem to like Harry very much). They weren't going to storm the school during the day; there were too many witnesses. Once school let out though, then Shinji would be fair game. Until then, however, they had time to kill, and Harry wanted to understand why Illya hated Shirou.

Illya's entire expression seemed to simultaneously darken and shut off all at once. "Because he took _him_ away from me."

Ah, the pronoun game. Harry _loved_ the pronoun game.

"Who, exactly?"

Illya stared up at Harry, silently examining his face. "Kiritsugu," she finally said. "Kiritsugu Emiya. My father."

And just like that, Harry's world came crashing down. "Wait, so you're _actually_ Shirou's sister?!"

Illya blinked. "Why else would I have been calling him Onii-chan?"

"Okay, good point," Harry said slowly. "In which case. . . what happened?"

"Kiritsugu promised to come back. But he never came," Illya whispered, looking down. Then her expression turned hateful. "_All because of Shirou Emiya."_

Ohhhhh shit. This wasn't good.

"How was it Shirou's fault? He didn't even know that you existed," Harry reasoned.

"He's lying."

Harry scratched his head. "No, I'm pretty sure he's not. I don't think Shirou _can_ lie, and if he does, then he'll undoubtedly be terrible at it."

"Then you're wrong," Illya said adamantly, her eyes hard. "Shirou Emiya took Kiritsugu away from me. Kiritsugu betrayed me and replaced me with Shirou. I _hate_ them both."

"Okay. . . I don't know the deal with Kiritsugu. But Shirou didn't even know who you were; how was it his fault?"

"I. . ." Illya stared down at the floor.

"From what I know of Shirou, he doesn't seem to be the type who would willingly hurt his own little sister."

"I'm older than him," Illya murmured.

"And besides - wait, hold up," Harry mentally compared Illya and Shirou. "I'm fairly sure Shirou is older than you. You're what, ten, eleven?"

"I'm eighteen."

". . . no you're not," Harry denied.

"I am. Because of the modifications to my body, I have a distorted growth rate."

". . ."

This. . . this actually didn't change things all that much, actually. Harry wasn't one to judge based on age; after all, in the Wizarding World, there were numerous creatures that aged and matured at a different pace than normal wizards. "In any case, how can you hate Shirou? He didn't have anything to do with Kiritsugu leaving you."

"He did."

Harry shook his head. "He thought he was an only child. If you wish to blame Kiritsugu, then I won't stop you; I don't know what happened. But Shirou, like you, is innocent in all of this."

"No he isn't."

Harry sighed. "Then how was it Shirou's fault if he - "

"_Because it was, okay_?!" Illya suddenly shouted, whirling onto Harry, agitation in her eyes.

"How?" Harry asked calmly.

"I - I don't know!" Illya glanced around wildly, as if looking for something to back up her assertions, but there was nothing there. "It's all his fault. I hate Shirou. I need to kill Shirou."

Harry frowned. This made no sense. Illya wasn't listening to facts and logic. Why was she acting so irrational - oh no.

"Illya," Harry said urgently. "If it wasn't your father, then who raised you?"

Illya tilted her head confusedly. "Elder Acht."

"And did he say anything about the situation with Kiritsugu and Shirou."

Illya nodded. "Yes. He was the one who confirmed Kiritsugu's betrayal."

_Damn it!_ Harry had to turn away so Illya couldn't see the sudden rage in his eyes. He analyzed the facts. Kiritsugu had left Illya at a young age to go live with Shirou. Mages of this world were messed up. The Einzberns wanted to win the Holy Grail War. Harry knew from experience that hatred and pain can strengthen a person, and the Einzberns definitely knew it too. Harry would like to think that they wouldn't brainwash a little girl, to direct all her anger and resentment into a single goal, but. . .

He needed to have some _words_ with this Elder Acht.

For Illya, however. . . Harry doubted he would be able to get through to her. Years upon years of pain and betrayal and resentment and bitterness and mental brainwashing couldn't be wiped away by him - or anybody. Except for one person.

"I understand," Harry reached out and patted her on the head comfortingly, something Sirius used to do to him.

Illya brightened. "So can we go kill Shirou?"

"No."

XxX

Illya stared at the scene before them with wide eyes. "This is unfair," she breathed.

Harry nodded in agreement. "It is."

Illya's primary form of attack was creating familiars made from her hair. The familiars were autonomous and could act with a limited degree of sentience. They typically took the shape of a bird.

It also just so happened that the spells the Weasley Twins applied to their fireworks could also be applied to the familiars.

Another rock shot towards the bird, courtesy of Harry, and when it struck the bird, the bird exploded - or rather, the surface layer of magic surrounding the bird exploded. Charming an object to explode when struck with Stunning Spells is somewhat difficult. Charming an object to explode when physically struck is infinitely easier.

"If any melee attacker tries to destroy my familiars, then all they'll get for their trouble is an explosion in their face," Illya chuckled.

"Charmed to be unbreakable, its speed and agility increased. . ." Harry smirked. "And it could all be done in less than a second. I love having a wand."

His wand thrummed with agreement.

"And how long do your spells last?" Illya asked.

Harry shrugged. "As long as I maintain a magical connection with them." He paused. "I can inscribe runes that make them permanent." That's what the Weasley Twins - and indeed any magical item producer - did with their magical items. A simple rune would allow the spell to keep its potency for a length of time. A much more complicated runic array, however, would draw in ambient magic to power the spell continuously, as is the case with the Sorting Hat.

Illya shook her head. "That won't be necessary. You will, after all, remain by my side to maintain the connection."

XxX

"So what's the deal with Shinji?"

Harry cracked a knuckle absentmindedly. "I met him at Shirou's school. I had a really bad feeling about him. Looking back, I behaved in a monumentally stupid and idiotic way, and I don't really understand _why_ I just let him go."

"What did he do?"

"His Servant drained the mana of students because he couldn't provide her with mana. He also set up a Bounded Field around the school."

Illya's mouth fell open. "He did _what?!_"

Harry frowned. "Is there a problem?"

"He's a bold one," Illya mused, ignoring Harry's question. "Are you sure he wasn't able to provide his Servant with mana? He seems like a proper mage."

Harry blinked. "How does setting up a Bounded Field around the school make him seem like a proper mage?"

Illya stared at Harry as if he was stupid. "The one rule of the Holy Grail War is that there can be no witnesses. If someone set up a _Bounded Field_ at a school, then they were probably intending to kill everybody inside."

"_What_?" Harry hissed, alarm in his green eyes.

"Yeah. You said he couldn't provide mana to his Servant, right? So he was probably planning on killing everyone at the school to drain their energy and power his Servant." Illya tilted her head. "Didn't you know?"

"No! I didn't! There's no way that can be true! I thought the Bounded Field would be strictly defensive!" Harry shook his head in denial. "Besides, Rin was also there. If she knew that the Bounded Field was going to kill everybody, then why didn't she do anything?"

Illya shrugged. "I have no idea."

"But the Bounded Field is still up. We were unable to take it down. . ." Harry rubbed his chin. "And if the Bounded Field would kill everyone inside - " his eyes flashed with alarm. "Then it could be happening _right now_."

XxX

"I still can't believe he did that to us."

Shirou groaned. "I know. You've said it already. Several hundred times."

They were on the roof of the school again. Ditching class. Because they couldn't really concentrate on anything.

"I mean, what does Illya have that we don't?" Rin scowled. "She's a tiny psychotic murder machine with a gigantic psychotic murder Servant. And he went with them!"

"For the last time," Shirou said patiently, "He probably saw something that we didn't."

"Look, I understand what Harry thought. He's from a different culture, one where the wizards taught him to do silly stuff like treat enemies with _kindness_. But come on! How can someone still have morals like that after fighting in a war?"

Shirou coughed lightly. "What?"

"It makes no sense. Harry makes no sense. Illya tried to kill us, and he went with her. Even if she was suffering, couldn't he have done something logical, like knock her out, capture her, and _then_ be kind to her?"

"You mean. . . you wanted Harry to induce Stockholm Syndrome in Illya?"

"Exactly!" Rin nodded. "It would've been genius. She would be happy, and, more importantly, she would've been loyal to us."

Shirou edged away slowly from Rin. "Umm. . . right."

"But nooo, he just _had_ to go with her. Into unknown enemy territory. I get that he's powerful and all, but still! Does self-preservation mean _nothing_ to him?" Rin sighed before turning onto Shirou. "This is all your fault, by the way."

"_My_ fault?" Shirou protested. "Hold up, how is this _my_ fault?"

"Because you didn't stop him? No - not just that: you _encouraged_ him," Rin glared. "And now we're down one Sorcerer."

"Hey, I only encouraged him because I kinda felt bad for Illya too. I mean, the only way for a kid to become _that_ murderous is if they went through a lot of trauma and tragedy, right? Besides, you and I both heard the absolute pain and betrayal in her voice last night."

Rin paused. "True enough. I don't know what the Einzberns did while training her, but it probably wasn't fun and games."

"I also wanted Illya to, you know, _not want to kill me_. And I thought that Harry could talk some sense into her," Shirou continued. He looked down. "Besides, if I thought I could, I would try to save Illya as well."

"But you couldn't."

Shirou sighed. "You're right. I don't even know who she is, but she wants to kill me."

Rin tilted her head. "She called you 'Onii-chan.' Is it possible that your dad had a kid without you knowing?"

Shirou frowned. "I don't know. He did go on trips quite often though. . ." he trailed off as horror entered his eyes. "Wait. Is it possible that Illya truly was his daughter? And he abandoned her?"

Rin narrowed her eyes. "If so, then her actions would make a lot more sense."

Shirou shook his head. "Nah, there's no way. If Kiritsugu had a daughter, then there's no way he would abandon her. Not a chance."

"Really?" Rin asked doubtfully.

Shirou nodded. "Yeah." And he spoke with such conviction, Rin didn't even bother trying to argue.

"Well, perhaps he didn't know about her existence - " Rin froze. "Wait. Your dad wasn't a proper mage, was he?"

"Huh?"

"Yeah, there's no way he was a proper mage. You are living proof of that."

"Hey!"

Rin crossed her arms, deep in thought. "Which means. . . theoretically, if Illya was Kiritsugu's kid, and Kiritsugu was a rogue mage, then I doubt the Einzberns would allow Kiritsugu to visit Illya."

Shirou's eyes widened. "You think Illya's family prevented her own father from seeing her?"

Rin chuckled bitterly. "You won't believe the things mages would do. This is all hypothetical, of course. It's entirely possible that Illya wants to kill you because you resemble her worst enemy, or something."

Shirou sighed. "Yeah, I doubt we'll find out." He paused. "Say, what are we going to do about Shinji?"

Rin tapped her fingers against her thigh. "I didn't want to fight him yesterday because I didn't know what his Bounded Field would do."

Shirou frowned. "What do you mean?"

Rin raised her eyebrows. "You really are clueless, aren't you? If a mage sets up a Bounded Field at a _school_, with a dense population, then they're probably not worried about witnesses." Rin sighed at Shirou's uncomprehending stare. "Because the Field would kill everyone inside."

"Ohhh - **what**."

"Yup. Even though we definitely weakened the Bounded Field yesterday, it wasn't gone. I wasn't sure how powerful it would be, especially since there were only a few people left in school at that point, which means the magical energy would be much more concentrated and potent. Imagine having to split a certain amount of mana to kill a hundred people versus only having to kill five. So I didn't want to fight."

Shirou paled. "So this Bounded Field around us - _is going to kill everyone inside if activated?!_"

"Yeah. You didn't know?" Rin paused. "Of course you didn't know."

"How can you be so calm?!" Shirou leaped to his feet, warily scanning the surroundings. "He could activate it at any moment!"

"Oh please. There's no way Shinji would be that stupid. He already knows that we're Masters. He's the Master of Rider, remember? Rider already lost _badly_ against Saber and Harry, and if he does anything at this school, since I'm here, Archer would also be an enemy." Rin gave a confident smile. "So don't worry. Shinji won't try anything."

Shirou bit his lip. "But Harry isn't here today."

"Yeah. It'll still be a 2v1 though; Saber and Archer would be present. . ." Rin trailed off as a thought occurred to her. "But Shinji isn't exactly the intelligent, patient sort."

Shirou nodded slowly. "If he saw that a Servant didn't come to school, he'll probably assume that he died or something. And that might make him confident enough to attack."

"And Shinji can just hide out in a classroom while the Bounded Field wreaks havoc around him, and Harry wouldn't be able to teleport in since, you know, he's not here." Rin locked eyes with Shirou. "Was Shinji acting strange in your class?"

"He was giggling a lot," Shirou recalled. "As in, he literally couldn't stop giggling - the teacher had to tell him to step outside. And he did shoot me several knowing glances and a few smug smirks. . ."

The color drained from Rin's face. "Oh no."

A massive tremor shot through the foundations of the school as angry red arcs of energy the color of blood rose from the ground. The roof shook violently as the tendrils of energy formed a barrier around the entire school, and Shirou could distinctly see a single giant eye forming at the very center.

"I thought we weakened the Bounded Field yesterday!" Shirou cried.

"We did!"

"This is the _weakened state?!_"

"I don't know! Like I said, I have no idea what this Bounded Field is! That's why I didn't want to fight Shinji yesterday!"

They rushed inside once the ground had stabilized and everything stopped shaking. Shirou immediately began gasping as breathing became ten times harder. "Why can't I breathe?"

Rin pursed her lips. "This may be more serious than I had anticipated. It appears that the Bounded Field is, quite literally, melting us."

"It's _what?!_"

"We need to take it down fast before everyone in this building is liquefied."

"_What?!_" Shirou's eyes widened. "Sakura!" And he went running off.

Rin sighed. "No sense of priorities," she muttered, before following him. But despite her words, she couldn't stop the pang of worry that sprung up in her heart.

XxX

"Nah, there's no way Shinji would activate it, right?" Harry reasoned.

"I don't know. Never met him before - _what did you say his last name was again?_"

"Matou. Shinji Matou."

Illya's eyes widened. "Any relation to Zouken Matou?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, his grandfather. How did you know?"

"Nothing," and suddenly Illya was serene again. She grinned. "Hey, can you show me some more magic?"

"Illya. . ." Harry stared at her, unimpressed at her attempt to redirect the conversation.

She sighed in resignation. "Fine. From what I know, while the Matou family does not produce mages anymore, what they lack in ability, they make up for in being absolutely deranged and psychotic. Mostly due to Zouken Matou. If Shinji was trained by him, then he will activate the Bounded Field with not a shred of remorse."

"Okay," Harry nodded once. He stood up. "Let's go."

"I thought you would say that," Illya said gloomily. "And if I commanded you to stay?"

"Then I would disobey you."

"Very well." A glint entered Illya's eyes. "You know, not a single Servant has been killed yet. Let's get first blood."

Harry hesitated before nodding, a dangerous gleam appearing in his eyes. "Rider needs to die. If she's capable of creating a Bounded Field that would kill hundreds of innocent people, then she deserves no mercy from me."

"That's the spirit," Illya cheered.

XxX

"Sakura! Sakura, are you okay?!" Shirou knelt down next to Sakura's unconscious body and checked for a pulse. For one horrifying second, he couldn't feel anything. Then he realized that he had the wrong spot. "She's alive," he called.

"Oh thank goodness," Rin breathed a sigh of relief before clearing her throat. "Not that I was worried, or anything - " Her head whipped around to stare at the skeleton creatures that were crawling out of a purple mist.

"Don't worry! I got it!" Shirou yelled as he dashed out, his pipe Reinforced and ready to go -

Rin simply blew the skeleton to pieces with a Gandr shot.

"Kill steal!" Shirou accused.

"Not the time," Rin hisses. "These things are easy to beat individually, but there'll be a _lot_ of them coming for us. We'll be overwhelmed by sheer numbers."

Shirou held up his hand. "Then I guess we'll need our Servants. I'll summon Saber."

Rin nodded. "Do it." She hesitated. "Should we call Harry?" She took out the rock he had given her.

Shirou shook his head. "Not yet. We can handle this on our own. Besides, what if he's in the middle of something right now with Illya? I wouldn't want to interrupt him."

"You made that sound _so_ wrong."

"What?"

XxX

"Bloody hell, what is that?!" Harry stared at the scene before him in horrified fascination.

Illya tilted her head. "It's a Bounded Field. A strong one at that."

"_That's_ a Bounded Field?! That is _nothing _like a ward!" Wards didn't have red arcs of electricity rising up from the ground. Wards didn't cast an ominous dark red glow over everything. And wards most certainly did _not_ have a gigantic eye staring down on everything.

"What's a ward?" Illya asked innocently.

"A ward is a - oh it doesn't matter right now!" He had Apparated slightly outside of the school (not directly onto the roof because he didn't want Archer to suddenly shoot him) and had immediately been met by the sight of a massive magical field surrounding the school.

"We could leave?" Illya suggested hopefully.

"Not a chance. You can leave if you want, but I'm going in." A wild smirk made its way onto his face. "Besides, I've been wanting to test out my new wand in a combat situation." His fingers twitched in anticipation. "It'll be _so_ fun."

And he strolled in confidently past the boundaries of the Bounded Field - and then frowned. Was the Bounded Field. . . _literally trying to dissolve him?!_

His eyes widened as he abandoned his calm stroll and sprinted inside, releasing a pulse of magic to try and find Shinji. He winced from the feedback - the Bounded Field was overwhelming all the other information.

"So where is Shinji Matou?" Illya asked from beside him. She kept up with his sprint easily - clearly, she was using magecraft to boost her physical capabilities. Behind them, Berserker was walking, his giant strides easily matching their sprint. They quickly entered the main school building.

"I don't know," Harry clenched his fists. "The Bounded Field is interfering with my senses. I can't get a clear reading - wait, how is Berserker going to get inside?"

Illya frowned. "What do you mean?"

Harry gestured at the entrance behind them. "He's too tall for that - _oh_."

Berserker didn't even bother stopping and walked straight through the wall.

"What are you talking about?" Illya called. "Come on, let's go!"

"I'm not paying for that," Harry muttered before following. Inside, Berserker had to lean his head down to avoid hitting the ceiling. If a fight broke out, then Berserker would probably bring down the school, Harry realized. He just had to take down the enemy fast enough; a simple enough task, given how weak Rider and Shinji are.

"How will you find Shinji?" Illya asked.

Harry pursed his lips as he considered his options. He could conjure up some birds and apply charms so that he would share the birds' senses. Yes, that would work nicely -

Wait.

"Do you hear that?" Harry cocked his head and listened. He could distinctly hear some maniacal giggling coming from down the hall. The sound immediately made him feel extremely uncomfortable. "That way."

XxX

"By my Command Seal, I summon you, Saber!" Shirou yelled as the skeletons pounced. Saber materialized next to them a few milliseconds later and sliced the skeletons into pieces. She glanced around them, noting the corrosive effects of the Bounded Field, the unconscious students in the classroom, and the purple mist gathered on the ground.

Saber narrowed her eyes. "Remember when I told you it was too dangerous to go to school?"

Shirou winced. "You. . . may have been right."

Saber sighed. "I sense a Servant on this floor. You two should go shut down the Bounded Field before any innocent lives are lost."

"You sure you can handle Rider?" Shirou asked.

Saber raised her left eyebrow.

"Oh right," Shirou amended. "You and Harry already practically defeated her - " he stopped abruptly when Saber's expression darkened at the mention of Harry's name. "Err, we'll go shut down the Bounded Field."

Saber nodded. "I'll take care of Rider." She turned to face the skeletons already forming from the purple mist.

Shirou and Rin didn't waste any more time talking, instead rushing down as fast as they could.

XxX

Shinji chuckled from where he was sitting on the chemistry lab bench. Rider stood there across from him. Shinji smirked. "Ah, my own genius astounds me sometimes. I bet no other Master would think of something like this."

"Indeed," Rider said dryly. "After all, other Masters are capable of providing their Servants with adequate mana, so there would be no need to drain an entire school to bring their Servant's fighting capabilities up to a minimum standard."

Shinji shot her a glance. "What was that?"

"Nothing," Rider answered. "I was simply commenting on your unique plan - " She tensed up.

Shinji smirked. "Is that so - _what the fuck_?!" His eyes widened as a section of the wall collapsed and a literal _giant_ stepped through, its angry red eyes seeking out Shinji. Then it _roared_.

A small whimper escaped Shinji. Then he felt something _very_ sharp touch his neck.

"Good afternoon, Shinji Matou," Harry smiled from behind him. A small silver blade hovered in the air, digging into his neck. "It's been a while."

"Oh, can you show me how the wizards of your world tortures their victims?" A small girl, about ten or eleven with white hair, stood besides Harry, looking excitedly at Shinji. There was a glint of _something_ in her eyes that disturbed Shinji immensely.

Harry sighed. "I would rather not, Illya. However. . ." the point of the blade dug in deeper and drew blood. Shinji went extremely still. "If Shinji here doesn't shut off the Bounded Field _right now_. . . then I shall have no choice but to demonstrate the intricacies of the Cruciatus Curse."

"Rider, damn it, do something!" Shinji yelled.

Rider hesitated. "It doesn't matter what I do," she finally said. "Harry is faster than me. I suggest you obey, Shinji."

Shinji growled. "Fine! Rider, turn off the Bounded Fie - "

"Destruction of school property? How delinquent of you." A new figure strolled in through the hole in the wall.

Shinji's eyes widened. "_You're _a Master too?!"

Souichirou Kuzuki removed his glasses, his movements elegant and efficient. "Hello there. I must admit, I am slightly surprised by you being a Master, Shinji Matou."

"And me?" Harry piped up curiously behind Shinji.

Kuzuki gave him an unimpressed stare. "You wore a white cloak to the school. Need I elaborate?"

Harry chuckled. "Fair enough."

XxX

"Rider," Saber greeted calmly. Rider had seemed to finally grow tired of summoning skeletons to attack her, and she had materialized from the mist, her chains in hand.

"Saber," she purred demurely. "I'm delighted see you - "

They both tensed up when they heard a loud roar echo throughout the school.

"Berserker?!" Rider cried out - no, it wasn't Rider; the illusion melted away to reveal Caster. "Why is he - Souichiro!"

Saber, for her part, immediately rushed down towards the source of the roar. If Berserker was here, then Illya was here. And if Illya was here, then Harry was here.

And if Harry was here, then Saber needed to have a _talk_ with him.

XxX

"Are you here to take down the Bounded Field?" Harry asked.

"That was my original intention." Kuzuki looked around the room, taking note of the presence of Berserker, Rider, and Harry. "However, my intentions have changed." He slid into a stance. "I shall eliminate all of you."

Harry smirked. "For a mere normal human, you're pretty confident, aren't you? Sure, you may have good breathing and walking techniques, but face it: you're outclassed."

Kuzuki inclined his head. "You are free to think that - " He stopped and tilted his head, as if listening to someone. "Oh. Never mind. I see the situation with the Bounded Field has been taken care of. I shall take my leave now. Good day."

He turned around and began walking away, but the wall suddenly sealed up.

"Apologies, but I'm not going to let you walk away," Harry said, his wand in hand. "But before that. . . Shinji, take down the Bounded Field. _Now_."

* * *

**I'm back.**

**I feel I must explain what happened with the last chapter. Essentially, when I was writing Chapter 6, I had been watching OPM and Naruto, and I guess that influenced my writing a _lot_. Hence all the "cycle of hatred" and "hero" stuff. Looking back, it simply did not fit, and was - well, _bad._ So I took out those parts. Feel free to re-read it if you want, but the chapter is basically the same - I just cleaned it up bit. **

**Anyway, for those of you who keep on saying that Harry's actions suck and make no sense - trust me, that was intentional (except for Harry revealing his abilities - that's simply because they're not important enough for him to keep secret). From Chapter 1 to Chapter 6, you all should've seen Harry become less and less powerful and more - well, stupid. ****Primarily because I can't imagine there _not_ being any psychological repercussions for Harry getting thrown into another world without a wand. Also because of - and I'll stop there for spoiler reasons. ****I had also planned to end all of that the moment Harry got his wand. And so, from now on, Harry will regain his mental faculties and genre savviness until his mental state and actions are the same as in his old world - in other words, competent and rational.**

**Oh, and he got a wand. Finally. It only took, what, a hundred thousand words? Honestly, I had been planning on using Illya's hair from the very beginning. And for those of you wondering about the Elder Wand. . . _chuckles_.**

**I confess: when I had been first writing this, I had been extremely hesitant to write the characters of Shirou, Rin, and Saber. I was new, and I was worried that I would make them OOC, or sound bad, or something. However, after several months, I'm more confident now in writing them, so I'll begin developing their character and making them more genuine. Hopefully, you all will see improvements.**

**One last word on chapter length - they'll be shorter now. No longer will there be massive 20k word chapters - I'm keeping them around 10k, like A Shinobi Among Monsters.**

**Thank you all for reading, and please review :)**

**euphoric**


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